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Chapter Text

I suppose these types of stories usually start off with how you got to wherever you are, right? Usually "I fell asleep while playing the game and woke up in the game!" or "I got hit by a truck!" which is an anime classic.

I wish I knew how I got here so I could tell you, but I don't. I wasn't playing the game, I haven't picked up the game in a few years at this point. I know it very well from my numerous former playthroughs and constant wiki dives for information for my fanfictions though.

I just don't know how I got here. My memory isn't providing that to me. I don't know if I actually did get sucked into a game or hit by a truck. It's not like I'm an amnesiac, but I can't even remember what time I got sent here. I don't suddenly have a cut in my memory at a definite date, but instead my memory is very blurry around the recent past. Was it Saturday today? Friday? Was it the start of October or the end of September? I don't know. I can remember the first half of September very clearly, and my memory is about as expected for everything before that, but my recent memory is totally shot.

I have a vague idea that I'm in Awakening judging by my possessions. I've suddenly gained an axe, shitty fur clothes, and a random bottle on my hip, probably a vulnerary. That's standard brigand attire for Awakening.

I suppose I could be in one of the GBA games or something, but I haven't played those and I'm counting on this being something I know. There's no real reason for it to be something I know unless I was intentionally brought here, but I'd rather not consider that I might be in some totally unknown pine forest.

Yes, by the way, I said a forest not a field. A rather chilly forest at that. I am not a fan of forests, or really anything to do with the outdoors for that matter, but forests are particularly bad because they have bugs. I really wish I could have started near Southtown if this is Awakening's world. That would have made things a lot simpler.

"So..." I mutter to myself, staring at the canopy and the sun shining through the leaves. "Is this a hallucination?" It's quite possible, though I don't know what could have induced it. I don't take drugs of any sort, I don't drink, I don't have any notable medical conditions... hmm... "Maybe this is this a coma?"

Well if this is a coma, my brain has a very odd way of keeping itself entertained. Are you usually this lucid in a coma? I feel like I'm awake. I don't know when I'm dreaming, but I've always been able to tell when I'm awake. Does being in a coma feel like being awake?

"Well, I'm not going to figure anything out by sitting here I suppose." I tell myself. If this is a coma, then I should start seeing strange things at some point. I push myself off the ground... and instantly notice something wrong. My arm is muscular right now, and it shouldn't be. I'm not a strong person, I despise physical activity for the most part, so why is my body muscled all of a sudden?

Just another strange thing to keep in mind I suppose. I need to find a mirror... after I find civilization. Survival first, figure things out later. Figuring things out doesn't matter if you're dead.

I mean, assuming I can die. If this is a coma, death probably won't be a thing. That's not something I plan on testing though.

Okay, so... the sun is slightly off-peak. That means it's either just before noon, or just after noon. Judging by the pine trees and such around me, and knowing that pine trees are usually found in colder climates, I'm guessing I am in Ferox, so I want to be going south (I'm acting under the assumption that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west here like it does on Earth).

So, I want to be heading south, which is towards Ylisse or Plegia. If I hit Plegia first, then I need to go east. The problem is that I have to wait for the sun to move to know it's it's currently rising or setting, and that means I currently have no way of knowing which direction is which.

Hmm... well sitting around is going to be worse than moving even if I'm moving in the wrong direction. The more I think, the more I'm likely to think about what's going on and give myself a panic attack. So I'm going to assume the sun is currently setting (meaning that way is west) and walk to what I assume is south-east. That way I'm all but guaranteed to hit Ylisse. If I went south and I'm at Ferox's west end, I'd hit Plegia, and I don't want that for obvious reasons.

Time to get walking...

###

It's very quiet. I expected a forest to be teeming with life, even if it's chilly it's not like there's snow on the ground, so I doubt things are in hibernation. I've heard a few birds here and there, but even they are few and far between. I've seen no bugs, no other animals, and no people. The forest just feels empty.

No visible bugs is fine with me, I hate bugs, but I'm not so foolish as to not think it strange. There are birds present, so there has to be some bugs, but by all means I should be seeing bugs then. They're not nearly as cautious by nature as animals are. Then again, I'm no ecosystem expert. Maybe the bottom of the food chain here is fish and not bugs and I'm overthinking this.

I'm pondering this mostly because I've found a stream. Now, if there really is something wrong with the ecosystem here, I don't want to be taking a drink because the water might be the root of the issue. On the other hand... I'm thirsty. I can't not drink. I have a waterskin that has some water, so I can use what's there for now, but if I don't fill it up again I'm just going to be repeating this problem in a few hours time.

I'll use my waterskin for now. If I can afford to wait and look for more information then I should. If I don't come to some conclusion by nightfall, I'll have to chance the stream water. Heck, even if there is something wrong I'll have to chance the stream water. I don't exactly have another source at the moment.

This is not how I imagined my first day in another world going. I didn't imagine I'd be worrying about water quality and a lack of bugs in a forest. I don't know the effects of Risen infecting an area though, it might be different from the game, and there's no saying how far along the plot line is already.

Do Risen even infect areas? The devastated future is a dull colored mess so I assume there's some sort of infection, but I don't know that for sure.

Just keep walking for now. I should find something if I keep following this stream. Settlements are built around streams and rivers after all. I can worry about heading south-east after I find a village and get supplies.

I mean, I know I just said that, but I also just entered a clearing and can see ahead of me, and there's this strange (and very large) temple up ahead. It's blue and white, so I'm guessing it's a temple to Naga. Either that or there's some ocean god I don't know about. Also... the stream travels through the temple, so that might be a good place to go for answers about potential water quality issues.

I've also noticed something else. It's been at least three or four hours. Apparently my new muscled body also gives me a decent bit of endurance. I suppose that's probably a good thing, but I hate having muscles in the first place. I know that sounds like a strange thing to say, but I really do dislike the feeling of muscles. I feel too large, it's annoying to have my biceps rub against my forearms if I ever pull them close to my body, and my skin just feels a bit tighter which is not a comfortable feeling. If anything I feel more vulnerable with this new body than my normal, weaker one.

In the time it's taken me to ponder my dislike for my new body, I've arrived at the entrance to the temple. To be blunt, it's old. The grass around it is overgrown and the stones are covered in dull green moss, but it doesn't seem to be falling apart yet. Old but not ancient, or maybe just really well constructed.

The doors are ajar, so I step right in. My footsteps make barely a sound on the stone floor thanks to my boots which are some sort of thick hide rather than metal or something totally solid. Wind moves through the large corridors of the building making a sound that's like a giant constantly sucking in air. It's surprisingly loud and mildly freaky. There are also paths of water running along either side of the walkway in their own special trenches, and I spy a mark of Naga carved upon some of the columns.

Well, at least I know this is a temple of Naga for sure, and that means this is probably Awakening. I have to wonder what's here now... if anything at all. Let's be honest though: a large empty temple out in the middle of nowhere in a game like Fire Emblem just screams "paralogue!" I could be wrong of course, this world doesn't operate on game logic, but I know Morgan's recruitment chapter takes place in a temple like this.

That's why I'm now walking with my axe in hand. "Acting under the assumption that this is the place you find Morgan, maybe I've gotten here before the Shepherds did. Then again, I haven't explored the whole temple yet."

I have to be on high alert for Risen, because the Risen in Morgan's chapter are probably way stronger than me. I'm an unpromo- you know what, class probably doesn't matter because this isn't a game. I'm one untrained coward with a crappy axe, and I'm not going to be able to fight dozens of possibly elite Risen, or even dozens of basic Risen, or even a single basic Risen.

Basically, I suck.

I peer around a corner and find confirmation of my suspicions. This is the exact room Morgan's paralogue takes place in... I think. In Morgan's paralogue there were raised platforms on the water making a path, but here all the raised segments of the floor are in a square at the center of the body of water.

There's also a small form lying down in the middle of that square with a large cloak covering them. I can't see the pattern on the cloak, but it's dark and has gold trim so I'm guessing that's Morgan.

I don't see Risen still, so that's good, but I doubt I have long before they show up. If I'm remembering the paralogue correctly, Morgan will wake up and only a few minutes later the Risen will be upon them. I need to get to Morgan and get them out quickly, but while I might be able to swim I won't be able to carry them through the water with me, and there's no guarantee I'll be able to wake them up.

These raised portions of the floor aren't supposed to be in a square though. That's not how it was in the game. Maybe they can be manipulated somehow? I start looking around the area for some indication of how I'd move them. I hope it isn't magic, because I don't know how to do magic.

Eventually I find what I'm looking for: a set of large wheels on a floor in a six-by-six grid overlooking the area where Morgan is. Judging by the scuff marks on the floor, I guess these need to be pushed manually. I'm guessing by the size of the room Morgan is and the relative size of the platforms that the middle four platforms are up, so if I raise platforms (1,1), (1,2), (1,3), and (2,3) I should be able to make a bridge over to Morgan's four platforms ((3,3),(3,4),(4,3), and (4,4) respectively).

"Why the hell would a temple have this weird room anyways? I mutter and I grab the handles of one of the massive wheels. "They had too much money on their hands I guess."

I put my new strength to use and start pushing the wheels. This is probably a multi-man job, because doing it on my own is slow and exhausting work. Morgan is asleep through the whole thing, because they don't react at all to the tons of water being displaced as I raise and lower these sections of the floor.

"Last one." I mutter to myself, and plant my sore hands on the wheel. I count the rotations as I slowly push the wheel. "One... two... three... four... five..."

Once I get to forty rotations the section is fully extended up the level of Morgan's, and I rush down to where I was before and make my way across the bridge I've created. I glance at the water around me, noticing how quickly it's settled down. I also notice how these raisable segments actually have space going through the center of them to allow water to pass under them even when raised, and how there are grooves on the walking surface to quickly drain the water after the segment is raised. This was a very well-thought-out mechanism.

Also, as I'm peering over the side, I catch a look at my reflection, and it stops me in my tracks. I kneel on the stone and lean over the side to get a better look.

I have black hair now? My face is also way different. I have a straight jaw, small nose, unpronounced brow ridge, and my skin is light tan compared to my usual pasty paleness. My eyes are also brown now rather than blue now, and my hair is short, black, and mostly straight. I look vaguely asian where I was causasian before.

So my body didn't change, I just got an entirely new body. Well fuck you too to whoever did this to me. (Not because I look asian, to be clear. I just resent being forced into a different body in the first place)

I shake off my anger and focus. Morgan first, rage at the heavens second. I jog over to where they're lying and kneel down next to them. Black-brown hair, so nothing out of the ordinary there. They look remarkably like their in-game portrait, though I can't tell what their gender is. The coat obscures their body, and they're fairly androgynous otherwise. I'll have to ask them when they wake up.

I slip my hands underneath them and lift them into a bridal carry, taking special care to support the neck and head. You can seriously hurt someone if they're unconscious and you carry them wrong. If their head isn't supported, it can pull the neck in unnatural ways because their muscles aren't keeping it in place.

Just as I'm about to leave another thought hits me. Usually you get a Naga's Tear here, right? Where is it? I don't really want to stick around in case Risen are coming though, so... augh, I'll just have to leave it. It's not plot-vital. I'm not going to go searching around this old temple when Risen could show up at any moment.

The last thing I do here is fill up my waterskin. I didn't see anything wrong with the water, so it must just be my paranoia. I don't regret waiting though, it was better to wait and search for information than to be uncritical.

I carry Morgan out of the temple, while still glancing around constantly for signs of Risen. The forest is still eerily quiet, so I make an effort to keep my own noise level down too, but it's hard to manage that while carrying another person.

At this point the sun is dropping dangerously low in the sky and I don't know how to start a fire. I have zero survival skills. Morgan has an elfire tome on them, but I think I'm more likely to blow us up than start a campfire with it if I try and use it. Either that or it'll end up doing nothing.

Mogan doesn't wake up before the sun starts to set and that's very bad news. Like I said, I don't know how to start a fire. I also only have a small amount of food in my pockets which will only make one meal. I'm hungry but Morgan probably needs it more than I do. I'm a presumably healthy adult, and Morgan is probably an underfed kid. I can probably live longer on no food than they can due to muscle and fat stores.

I eye their warm cloak enviously. The furs I'm wearing aren't useless, they're actually quite effective, but Morgan looks very comfy in that cloak.

If I can't make a fire, I need at least to find a place that's out of the wind. I could fell some trees with my axe but I'm not sure how effective that would be in making a wind barrier and honestly the amount of effort that would take likely isn't worth it when we're low on food.

So instead I take the first boulder I can find, chop off a bunch of low-hanging branches in the area to function as a make-shift bed, and set Morgan down on it. It's better than just the ground, and if it rains their back won't get soaked. I do the same for myself afterwards, though I'm cut slightly short by the sun falling and the sky getting too dark to see anything.

This bed of twigs will have to do. My extremely limited knowledge of survival coming from watching survival shows is coming in handy… to an extent. Going to sleep in the cold is not comfortable. The furs only help so much with that. Beside me I can feel Morgan shivering too. That's bad. I can at least manage my own heat to an extent, but being asleep or unconscious Morgan can do no such thing.

"I'm probably going to regret this if they wake up before me." I think with a frown. It'll stop them from freezing so I'll do it, but I don't feel comfortable about it. I roll over so I'm right next to Morgan, and carefully slip one of my arms underneath their body, and pull them tightly against my own. The warmest parts of any person's body are their armpits (well actually it's your groin, but that's not being used for obvious reasons), so I take their arms, cross them, and make sure to tuck their hands in their own armpits for warmth. I pull their hood down as far as it will go on their head, and make sure their face is buried in the furs I'm wearing. Now the only thing really at risk is their toes… and there's not much I can do about that unfortunately. I move some of the extra small branches to cover our lower halves and tangle our legs together to maximize heat, but that's about all I can do.

While during the day the temperature was chilly, at night it's easily below freezing. I fall asleep hoping I've done enough to prevent Morgan from losing some digits. Maybe I should never have taken them from that temple.

Also, I'm giving it a fifty percent chance that I'm going to wake up because Morgan stabbed me. If that happens, I also imagine it's female Morgan. Male Morgan is a bumbling adorable ditz who I don't imagine will find anything wrong with this situation, but Female Morgan is a bit more sharp and I don't think she'll put up with this shit.

###

Morgan does wake up before me. I know this because I wake up to them staring at me. They have brown eyes so dark you can barely see their pupils. I'm not good at reading people, and I think they're intentionally keeping their expression neutral, so I have no idea what they're thinking because their expression is totally flat.

They haven't struggled away from me or stabbed me in my sleep though, so that's a plus I guess.

"Morning." I grunt. Wow, my voice is weirdly deep. I didn't realize that before. "If you can make fires, next time we can just do that instead of cuddling. Didn't want you to freeze."

"Oh." Morgan blinks. "You don't know how to make a fire?"

"Nope." I admit. "I'm fully expecting that you're going to be better at this whole 'survival' thing than me."

"Huh. Okay. That's not what I expected you to say."

"What did you expect?"

"'Muhahah! You're mine now girl.'" Morgan says with a comically bad growling voice. "'Take off your coat'... or something like that."

Female Morgan. That means male Robin. Noted. She also didn't stab me, and I'm going to count that as lucky. "I suppose the brigand clothes give off that impression, don't they?"

"Yeah."

"Bad experiences?"

"I mean… maybe? I don't remember."

Amnesia, right. "Well, you don't have to worry about that. I'm on your side here."

"And what side do you think that is?"

"Finding your father and the Shepherds." I say simply. I'm not going to give all the details of me knowing how this world works and what will happen, but I'm not going to hide that I know quite a bit.

"Huh…" Morgan eyes me curiously. "Okay then. Thanks…?"

"Nathan." That's not my name, but this feels so far removed from my normal life that I want to separate it with a different name. I'm not putting this being a coma off the table yet. "Hello Morgan."

"Yeah, hi. So uh… as much as I like being warm, I'm also starving, so…?"

"Ah." Either that's a polite way of telling me to let go, or she's actually just hungry and doesn't mind my hug-of-warmth. "Well, I have a bit of jerky…"

"Gimme!"

"But that's all we have." I warn. I release the girl from my grasp and dig out the meat from my pocket. Morgan, who had been reaching out to grab it, pauses. "I'm more than willing to give it to you, you probably need it, but you might want to ration it out."

"What about you?"

"I'll manage until we get to some other food… hopefully." I say. Morgan cautiously accepts the jerky, though she doesn't take a bite out of it quite yet. "I've been following the river, hoping to find a village to purchase more food. Once that's done, I planned to go south-east towards Ylisse."

"Where can I find my father?"

"Ylisse most likely, if he's not out at war." I offer. "My goal is much the same as yours. I'm trying to find the Shepherds."

"Huh." Morgan blinks. "What are the odds of that?"

"Extremely unlikely." I admit. "Anyways… are you going to eat that jerky?"

Morgan stares long and hard at the jerky in her hand. She then breaks it in half, and hands half to me. "I have another question."

I snag the jerky and bite down. It's bad, but it's food. "Sure."

"Did you find me out here in the forest?"

"No actually, I found you in a temple surrounded by a pool of water." I say truthfully. "Risen were incoming though, so I carried you out." That's only a partial truth now that I think of it. I have no way to know if Risen were going to show up soon or not. I haven't come across any yet, and because this is ostensibly a real world there's no guarantee Risen will show up at a convenient timing like in the paralogue… or at all.

"I see…" Morgan says though a mouthful of food. She swallows. "Okay, so, you help me and I help you? Is that the deal?"

"Honestly it will be more you helping me than the other way around." I admit sheepishly. "Like I said, my survival skills are nonexistent. I really am hoping you know more about surviving in the wild than I do."

"So that was your plan! Find an amnesiac girl, save her life to make her indebted to you so she'll keep you alive!" Morgan says while pointing a finger at me. "Clever…"

"That was more or less the plan." I say.I was hoping she'd wake up earlier last night so she could help me not die, so I suppose that was basically my plan. "You have no proof I'm telling the truth though. For all you know I'm lying, and you woke up the way you did because I'm a creepy molester."

"Maybe." Morgan shrugs. "But, I mean, come on. If you were a creep, you'd never admit it. Also, I was joking you know?"

"But I wasn't." I reply, and she shrugs indifferently. Is she really okay with this? I was expecting more protests about lugging my useless ass around, even if she does think I saved her.

"Right… well, I think we can manage." Morgan muses. "I know a thing or two."

"Can you start a fire?"

"Yes."

"Thank Naga, we're saved!" I say dramatically. "But seriously, that's good, because I've never done so without a flint and steel." Well, a lighter actually, but I'm fairly sure those don't exist here.

###

Morgan knows how to hunt. That is so incredibly useful I don't know how to express it. We've come across no other villages in two days of travel, so it's been through Morgan hunting with her elfire tome that we've been getting food. In her words: "it's not an efficient use of this tome, but it's all we can do at the moment."

Most of her kills have been birds. She blows them out of the sky with a controlled explosion to stun them, and then finishes them off with her sword. The birds are small, not even a full meal, but it keeps us alive at the very least. Hungry, but alive.

We're still following the river currently. It's going straight east, which isn't terrible, but it means we aren't getting any further south yet. We just need to find one village for directions and supplies so we can start making some real progress, but so far no luck.

I feel bad that I haven't been nearly as useful as Morgan. I smash off branches to use for our nightly fires with my axe, and sometimes I carry Morgan around because she doesn't have my endurance, but other than that I'm doing very little.

Conversation between us is limited. Morgan has little to offer on account of her amnesia, and I don't know a whole lot about this world beyond broad plot and character details. We play various little games like eye-spy or that game where you have to say a word that starts with the last letter of the other person's word, but a lot of time is also spent in silent walking.

When we set up camp though, there's one other game we can play. We clear out a path of dirt, draw a board, and play chess. We use different-sized sticks for the different pieces. Morgan always wins, but it's more entertaining than just sitting around.

"Nathan."

"Yeah?"

"How old are you?"

I purse my lips. I have no idea how old this body is so I'll just use my actual age. "Twenty-one."

"Huh."

"What?"

"I thought you were older than that. You look older."

"Well, how old are you then?"

"I think I'm… eighteen?" Morgan says after a moment of consideration. "That feels right. I'm going to say I'm eighteen."

I blink in surprise. "Really?"

"What? Why do you sound so surprised?"

"You look younger." I say bluntly. It's true, she looks like she's just barely started puberty. Also, using my knowledge of the game, I know Morgan is likely the younger sibling of some other of the future children which means the future children are older than I thought they were. I always expected them to be about sixteen, but assuming Morgan is about two years younger than most of them then they're probably about twenty.

Their sprite-art from the game really doesn't do them justice I suppose. Roughly how old are the first generation then? I assume they're a few years over the future children, so about twenty-four to twenty-six?

Alternatively, this world might just be totally different from what I'm expecting. Maybe the future children are almost exactly the same age as their parents, or Morgan's older sibling was born earlier than most of the other children so most of the future children are actually Morgan's age.

You know what, I'm putting too much thought into this. It really doesn't matter. I'm curious though. Miscellaneous knowledge like this interests me as a fan of the game. Also… that's just a lot older than I assumed. I always thought Morgan was twelve, not eighteen.

"I knooow…" Morgan sighs. "Why couldn't people all start to look older at the same age? Why does it have to be different for everyone? Why couldn't I be an early bloomer? Instead I'm super late I guess."

"Look on the bright side. You look like a kid, so you can get away with pranks for longer than most." I offer. Also, I don't think you're a late bloomer Morgan. If you're eighteen, you've probably finished growing already. Sorry.

"Oh…" The girl's eyes light up. "Oh man, you're totally right!"

"Just choose your targets carefully. Anyone who actually knows you won't be fooled." I warn.

"Ooh, okay… I should keep my age a secret from now on…" Morgan murmurs.

"Honestly, I was going to suggest that anyways." I think to myself. "An adult that looks like a child is bound to grab the attention of some creep if it becomes public knowledge. Maybe let's not bring that up though, no sense in bringing down the mood. Besides, considering her skills, I bet Morgan could make short work of unwanted attention."

"Hey, Nathan?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know who I am?" She asks.

"You're Morgan."

"Yeah, but you seemed to recognize me even before I told you who I was or that I had amnesia. You knew I was looking for my father before I mentioned it too."

"Well…" How much do I say here? I can't reveal too much or I'll look crazy. "I have some outside knowledge. I can tell you about the broad strokes of what happens in the world, and maybe some specific people, but that's it. I don't know your past except that you've hopped dimensions to be here."

"Oh." She blinks.

"Yeah, it's complicated." I shrug. "Really, this whole world is a bit complicated."

"Huh… okay then." Morgan says. Her brow is set in a serious expression. "I have a lot to learn I suppose."

"So do I…" I murmur.

###

"Oh thank God, a village." I sigh when I see the clearing ahead of us with some buildings visible. "It's about time."

"I'm staaaarved." Morgan moans. "We gotta buy a ton of food."

"Speaking of buying… do you have any money?" I cough. "I have some copper, but I'm not familiar with money."

"What?"

"Yeah, uh, I'm not used to using gold and silver and copper. How much is thirteen copper?"

"You could maybe buy some cheap ale with that, or a single night in a crappy inn."

"Oh." So basically I have nothing. Great.

"Let's see…" Morgan mumbles as she searches through her coat. She pulls out a small purse. "I have this." She opens it. "Oh. Wow. That's… one, two, five, ten, twenty… a lot of gold."

"Ah." So she's rich (and I'm dirt poor). That makes enough sense I suppose. Robin probably had a lot of money in the future, but there was no real use for it in an apocalyptic future, so Morgan just hung onto a lot of it. At least that's what I assume. "Well that's good. That's food and beds, and hopefully some other supplies."

"You speak like I'm paying for you." Morgan scoffs. I don't realize she's joking immediately, so an expression of shock born from fear of abandonment crosses my face and she rushes to correct things. "I'm joking! I'm joking! Uh, sorry."

"Oh, right." I say, making sure to keep my voice even. I'm supposed to be an adult here, but I have no experience in keeping my calm. I'm only nominally in charge because I'm older than Morgan and because I actually have some idea of where we're going. By all means, Morgan should be the one in charge here, because she's certainly smarter and more competent than me, and I have no doubt she'll take charge at some point when I'm out of my depth, but for now I have to hope me ostensibly being in charge is enough to justify her not abandoning me. "Let's go."

"Right!"

The village is very small. It's not a farming village, there are no fields (maybe it's too cold up here year-round to do any farming) but instead seems to focus on furs and fish. People stop and stare at us (glare at me actually) as we pass by we search for a tavern and a general store or a market. We stand out like a sore thumb, partially due to Morgan's cloak, but also because all the villagers have dark skin and me and Morgan don't.

"Hey, you." Some burly man, the village blacksmith by the look of his calloused fingers and apron, stops us in the streets. He's glaring right at me. Morgan glances around us, and her eyes narrow slightly. I can see other people moving from the corner of my eye, so I'm guessing we've been surrounded. What a warm welcome. "You got a lot o' nerve comin' in here and thinkin' we would jus' ignore you."

I'm totally lost. "I do? I think you have me mistaken for someone else."

"We'll see 'bout that." He looks down at Morgan. "Kid, what's your name?"

"Morgan." The tactician says. She draws herself up to her full height (which isn't saying much). "What's going on here?"

"I'm askin' you that." The man says softly. He's using the voice you'd expect a police officer to use with a scared kid. Firm, but gentle. Why? Why was he glaring at me then? The man reaches out and puts a hand on Morgan's shoulder, and not-so-subtly shifts her away from my side. Morgan's mouth purses in thought. "Morgan, was it? Tell me truthfully, are you alright?"

"I mean, I'm hungry, and I've been sleeping on branches for the last few nights." Morgan says truthfully. "I also don't remember anything beyond the last two days… so… no, not really."

"I see." The man says slowly. The people around us not-so-subtly start to draw weapons. The blacksmith then points to me. "And him? What has he done to you?"

"That is a very leading question." I think. "What's going on here? Should I be drawing my axe?"

"Kept me from getting killed, carried me around when I was exhausted, kept me company, stopped me from freaking out about the fact I'm an amnesiac who woke up in the middle of nowhere…" Morgan lists off slowly. It's only at this point I notice her hand has slipped into her cloak, and a moment later she pulls out her elfire tome. "So." She says in an icy, stern tone. "I'm going to have to ask you to back off and put away your weapons, or I'm going to start slinging fire."

"Oh, is this a fight?" I think, and reach for my axe. I hadn't even noticed how everyone around us has some sort of weapon. Apparently everyone in the village has an axe. "Isn't this just a village? What's going on here?"

Morgan and the blacksmith seem to be having a staring contest of some sort. The man is squinting in suspicion while Morgan is giving him a firm, unwavering look.

"You're sure yer fine?" The man grunts.

"Yes."

"We've got a bunch o' people here. We can take him."

"I know. That's unnecessary."

"Take him?" I blink. "Take me? Oh, I'm being threatened. Uh…"

"He ain't a slaver? You're fine?"

"Again, yes." Morgan says firmly. "He's my friend, and we're much closer in age than we might look. I assure you, whatever you're thinking, it's not true."

The blacksmith stares for a moment longer, than steps back and says "Alright boys, false alarm. I'll take it from here."

The men around us share disbelieving looks, but listen to the blacksmith. They pull back their respective weapons and reluctantly go back to wherever they came from. I watch Morgan pocket her elfire tome and let go of my axe.

"Sorry for the rude greeting." The blacksmith says. He extends a hand towards me, which I cautiously shake. The last few lines between him and Morgan finally keyed me into what was going on. He thought I was a kidnapper, huh? I suppose that makes sense. That reminds me of what I was thinking before about Morgan hiding her age. I guess I look like the creep, given my attire and what looks like a large age difference. "The villages around here have had trouble with kidnappings lately. Bandits, have been either sneaking in or raiding villages and taking the women. So when I saw a man who looks like a brigand walkin' around with a young girl… well you can understand my alarm."

"So you surround us and ask leading questions." Morgan says evenly. "I'm all for taking action, don't get me wrong, but asking leading questions gets biased answers, and biased answers aren't the truth."

Thank you Morgan for being smart and logical, and also willing to stand up for the random weirdo you've known for less than a week.

The blacksmith seems surprised at Morgan talking back to him. "Well, I can't expect someone who might have been kidnapped to be of the right mind, yeah? They could easily be pressured into not saying anything, and probably won't be using their right mind anyways. I can't trust them to speak up on their own. They need prompting."

Morgan purses her lips. "Alright, fine. I don't totally agree, but that's a fair enough point."

"Didn't ask for you to agree." The blacksmith shrugs. I can practically hear him complaining to himself that this little girl is trying to dictate morality to him, though he doesn't comment more on it. "So, what brings you two here then?"

I step in here. "Food, shelter, supplies, directions. We've been out in the wild for a few days with no supplies, and we're trying to head for Ylisse. Erm… where exactly are we?"

"You're a hell of a way off, that's where you are." The man grunts. "You're at the west end of Ferox. Like, the total west end. Gonna take you at least a month to get where you want to go."

"Ah." I grimace. "Okay…"

"I don't have no map I can give you, but supplies and whatnot we can certainly give if you got the coin for it." The man says. "An', by the look of it, maybe you two could use a proper backpack too? Only so much you can carry in that little coat o' yours."

"You'd be surprised…" Morgan mutters under her breath. "But yeah, we could use a pack or two. Also, a place to stay for the night would be great. Oh, and bedrolls would be fantastic. We could use those."

"If yer willing to wait for a few days, we can certainly provide." The man says. "For the night though, the tavern's got rooms for ya, and it's got some good food. They'll appreciate the extra business too. Ain't often we get travellers out here."

"Well, they'll get quite a bit of business tonight. We haven't eaten properly in days." I say. "Erm… if you don't mind pointing us in the right direction?"

A few minutes later the two of us step into the tavern. It's small and basic, with only eight tables that could probably fit the whole village if needed. This seems to be a small place. Seeing as it's not quite dinner time yet we've beat the rush, and we order a full meal for each of us and dig in as soon as the food is on the table. The meal is mostly meat and fish, but there are a few vegetables and some bread. Rather than booze, we both get water to drink.

We finish just as the rest of the town seems to be pouring in for their nightly round of drinks. Some shoot me hard glances, still seeing me as suspicious, so while Morgan takes a moment in the water closet I pay for a room, and we make our way up there. The girl pauses upon seeing the room, and a moment later I realize the problem.

"Nathan…"

"Yeah, I just realized. My bad. I'm used to hote- er, tavern rooms having more than one bed." I sigh. "My siblings and I always slept in the same room when we went anywhere. I forgot solo rooms existed. Sorry. I'll go back down and-"

"What?" Morgan blinks. "I was just going to ask if you wanted the wall side or the inside."

Oh, she doesn't mind. Didn't expect that. I won't complain, I'd hate sleeping alone at the moment to be honest, I've been steadily on the verge of a panic attack for the last several days and having Morgan has really helped with that. I expected her to take issue though.

"You have a 'I'm surprised' look on your face." Morgan notes. "Were you expecting me to complain?"

"Yes." I say bluntly. "Very much so, yes."

She raises an eyebrow. "Is it because I'm a girl? You were expecting me to be all bashful?"

"Yes to the first, no to the second. I was expecting you to complain about the lack of space and make a jab at my expense."

Morgan snorts. "I mean… I considered it, but that would be mean. You seem… and I don't want to sound mean… kinda emotionally fragile? And maybe not too socially aware? So I could poke fun at you, but at this point that would just be rude."

"Oh." I cringe.

"No, no, uh…" Morgan wrings her hands in annoyance. She's trying to find the words to explain this. "I don't mean that as an insult or anything! I'm kinda freaking out too you know? And you've been putting on a brave front for my sake… not very well mind you, but you've been trying. I could make a joke, but it would only make me feel better, and honestly… I don't really want to sleep alone either. I could have woken up in that temple alone with Risen around me, I don't know where my father is, and I don't know anyone else in the world right now because of my amnesia. You are literally the only person I know I can fully trust at the moment."

That's probably supposed to be reassuring, but it's not. The only person Morgan has is me, and I'm totally incompetant and have no real idea what I'm doing.

Still though, I suppose I would prefer to have a well-meaning companion, even if they were incompetant, over no one at all. I'm also not going to argue with not sleeping by myself tonight.

"You can take the wall, I'm a still sleeper. I shouldn't fall off." I offer.

"Oh good, because I tend to roll in my sleep." Morgan mutters.

We shrug off our extra things and climb into the bed. It reminds me of sleeping next to my parents when I was young… except I suppose I'm the larger one here, and we're basically equals and there's not a parental relationship, and-

Okay, look, this metaphor is falling apart really quickly. I'm just going to move on.

I was expecting all this tension and awkwardness about sharing a bed, but Morgan really doesn't care. I suppose it's all in my head. I'm more awkward about this than she is. I have all these expectations that other people are going to be super prudish and easily offended and all that, so it's honestly throwing me off that Morgan just isn't any of those things.

"Nathan, you look like you're overthinking something." Morgan notes.

"I probably am." I admit.

"Stop." She suggests cheekily.

You know what? That sounds like a good idea. I'm worrying about things that don't matter. I should just sleep.

So I do. I flop back in the bed (listening to Morgan shift around beside me and murmur under her breath as she runs through plans for tomorrow). Sometimes she asks my opinion in a whisper, and I respond in a half-asleep mumble. I don't say much of use, and I don't think Morgan expects me to. I'm just a soundboard to bounce ideas off for as long as I'm awake.

I'm only awake for so long though. I fall asleep to Morgan muttering ideas under her breath.

###

"So is that everything?" I ask.

"Yep." Morgan nods. "Unless they have some lying around though, we're going to be waiting for them to make this stuff, so we'll be here for a few days in the meantime."

"Right." I say. "Uh… what do we do then?"

"I dunno honestly. Maybe we should hunt and stock up on food?" Morgan shrugs. "We don't have to considering how much money I have, but it's never bad to save money."

"Why not." I shrug. "It's not like we have anything else to do. I'm not going to be much help though."

"Sure you are. You're company." Morgan chirps. "Hunting on my own would be boring. I'm not going to wander around the forest for hours on my own!"

If you say so Morgan. I'm not going to argue with something to do. I don't want to sit in the tavern room dwelling on my situation or I'm going to give myself a panic attack. It's only because of Morgan I haven't broken down already.

Chapter Text

"Uh…"

"Yeah..." Morgan whispers in equal disbelief. "What are the odds?

"Too high apparently."

"We can't just back out now that we know they're here, right?"

"I suppose." I mumble. My grip tenses on my axe, and I take a deep breath. "What do we do? They're slavers. Slavers. They probably know how to fight to some extent."

"I'm not saying we rush in, I'm just that we should do something." Morgan says. "Don't you agree?"

"Uhh..." I grimace reluctantly. Morgan looks slightly disappointed, and I in turn feel a bit offended. "Can you blame me? We're two against two dozen. We can't safely take them all."

"We don't have to." Morgan replies. "We just need to free the slaves."

"And leave the slavers to go about their business."

"Like you said, we can't safely do anything about that." Morgan admits. "But we should do what we can."

"Right, right. Okay, fine. You're the tactician, what do we do?" I ask. My eyes are glued on the ruins where the slavers are based. We're hiding in bushes, but I can't help but feel if anyone walked by we'd be noticed right now.

"First we have to just stay out of sight and observe." Morgan whispers. "Note guard patterns, avenues of attack, maybe wait for them to go out so we can set up a trap or free some captives."

"If you say so." I say tensely. "So, how are we going to hide exactly? Do we put leaves over ourselves or something?

"Of course not. We're going to climb a tree."

"Oh, of course, why didn't I think of that?" I laugh nervously.

"Because I'm the tactician here." Morgan quips in return. "Come on. They're all busy eating. This is the perfect time to find a place to hide out."

As it turns out, the plan isn't to find the tallest tree around. That would be too obvious. Morgan says we need a tall tree, but it's more important that the boughs are thick so it's hard to see though. Granted, it will be hard for us to see too, but it's more important that we remain unseen than that we can see everything. We're no use if we're dead.

It's not too hard. We find a good tree and clamber up to the middle branches. It's cramped and uncomfortable, but... it's a tree, what was I expecting? It fits our needs, and that'll have to be good enough.

Sitting in a tree for hours on end is mind-numbing. This is the first proper taste of anything close to military life I've gotten, and it sucks ass. I'm constantly worried because we're only several dozen meters away from the border of the enemy encampment, and also constantly bored because I'm sitting in a goddamn tree for hours on end, unable to do anything but watch, listen, and sometimes whisper to Morgan.

I really have no idea what I'm getting into. I regret this already. Freeing some slaves would be great, but I'm going to be hard-pressed to say I felt in any way satisfied with this.

Huh, that sounds really petty. I mean, it is really petty, but am I wrong to feel that way? Throwing my life into danger is never going to feel worthwhile even if, from a logical standpoint, I know it is. I'm doing the right thing, and I hate it, but I'm doing it anyways because of logic.

You know what, this is a bad time to get philosophical. It's hard not to let my thoughts wander though. I'm in a tree. I can't state that enough. I'm sitting in a tree, and I can't possibly be expected to focus for multiple hours on end. Or can I? I don't know. How do soldiers deal with this shit?

"Stop fidgeting Nathan."

"Sorry."

"Just calm down, it's only been an hour, you're going to emotionally exhaust yourself."

"Only an hour?"

"Yep."

"Oh God..."

###

I've never been one for meditation, but it ends up being the only thing I can really do to pass the time. Morgan is doing most of the monitoring. She actually knows what to look for, and has a far better memory than me. My observations over the last hour have been banal and rather useless. Morgan has been polite in her responses, but I got the feeling I wasn't helpful so I just stopped mentioning things.

What was I talking about? Right, meditation.

I don't really get meditation for the most part. I understand it conceptually, but it don't know how much of it you need to do for it to start having an effect. It's probably one of those things you need to do frequently to see results I imagine. However, at the moment, it's the only thing I can do, so I do.

Well, I try, and then I start getting distracted by story ideas. I'm a writer (fanfiction writer, not a proper writer… yet) so I'm always eager to find a new idea for a story. Story ideas occupied most of my thoughts whenever I wasn't doing anything in particular, and now ends up being no exception. Some of those ideas are old ideas, one's that will never see the light of day, but that I still hold dear. Some are newer, that I like a lot, but I've never managed to write in a way that satisfied me. Some ideas are new as of this day, and mostly centered around stealth narratives, or Morgan.

You know what, I should probably get rid of the ideas involving Morgan. It would be rude to imagine random things about someone who actually exists… assuming this isn't a coma. I'm still not discounting that idea.

My thoughts are just a mess now. Ugh. It's hard to not think of something. I'm still bored too, despite my imagination trying to supply a distraction. I really should learn to meditate. It's supposedly good for you, and you can supposedly do it anywhere.

I hear Morgan scribble something in her notes, so I glance up at her. The girl's eyes are fixed on something in the slavers' camp, so I try to figure out what she's looking at. I've barely been paying-

"Noire." I whisper suddenly. The slaves have been brought out into somewhere we can see for something. I think it's dinner time for them. Why on Earth is Noire here though? Her paralogue is on the other side of the country. "It's Noire. Wow. Okay…"

"Noire? Who's that?"

"Uh… she's like you. Dimension hopper. Without amnesia though."

"Oh." Morgan blinks. "Uh, cool. I meant which one though."

"Oops, uh..." I mumble, and squint. "Black hair, pale skin, tattered green clothes, young adult, female, busty."

"Ah, got it. I see her." Morgan nods. "I take it we should free her first?"

"Probably. She can use a bow, and is at least a somewhat experienced fighter." I whisper. "Of course, that's assuming my knowledge from the game is somewhat accurate to this reality."

"We don't have a bow."

"Yeah." I grimace. "Hopefully we can find one then. Unless you know how to make a bow?"

"Nope. Not like I could at the moment anyways."

"Right, so… find one. Or maybe Noire can make one herself if we can free her. Heck, we could probably just give her a sword and she'll still be more useful than any other given slave because she has actual combat experience."

I don't actually know that, but Noire is the only one there that I can almost guarantee knows how to fight. The others, mostly young girls, I don't imagine have combat experience.

Wow, that's sexist of me. I just realized that. This world is based on medieval times, so I imagine it's true (and I am going to keep going on those assumptions for now), but I should probably check the norms of this world when I get the chance. Maybe this world is totally equal.

I doubt that, pegasus knights and fighters were gender-locked in the game, so by that measure the sexes shouldn't be equal here, but a person can hope.

"I can see why the slavers would take her. She's a looker." Morgan notes. "Hmm… uh… hey…"

"What?"

"So, you have a bunch of knowledge about the world and stuff, right?"

"Right…?"

"So, you have some sort of scrying ability or ability to tell the past, right?"

"Erm… not exactly. It's complicated."

"It doesn't matter what exactly it is." Morgan says. She sounds a bit rushed, worried. "What do you know about Noire's enslavement? Or just the enslavement of these girls in general?"

"Not much. I just knew Noire would be found around slavers."

"Okay… okay…" Morgan murmurs, taking a deep breath.

"What's wrong?" I ask quietly.

"Nothing."

"Clearly something is. Spill."

"I just- How fast do we need to be?" Morgan asks in a rush. "Think about it, right? Attractive young women, slaves, surrounded by a bunch of amoral men?"

"Oh." I blink. "Oh. Okay. I get the picture."

This is a lot darker than the game. Wow, okay, yeah, that would be a worry. That is a huge worry. Holy shit.

"We can't be hasty." I say nervously. "But… God, I wish we had an army right now."

"I know, right?" Morgan mutters. Her hand tightens on her notebook. "But we can't do anything until some of them leave."

"So this is what it's like to feel powerless." I think, grimacing. "Not something I ever wanted to feel, but here I am."

It's hard to keep my eyes off Noire after that. I hate the twisting in my gut I feel when the slaves are taken back inside the ruins, where we can't see that they're alright.

I hope we get an opening soon. I want Noire, and the rest of the slaves, out.

###

The logical part of my brain says that a large division of the slavers leaving probably means they're going on another raid, which is certainly a bad thing, but the emotional part of my brain is overjoyed at the thought we might be able to actually do something to help the captives here right now… which is still a good thing I suppose.

However, five against two is still not great odds, so we have to be careful about this. It's just reaching sundown, so any plan to just grab slaves and run is moot. There's no way we'll navigate safely in the dark with people on our trail. We need to take out the five guards, free the slaves, and then go. We should have a few hours, which is plenty of time, because I doubt that raid is going to be super fast, and they have to travel to whatever village they're heading for in the first place, and they have to travel back here…

So yeah, we should have time. Probably. Hopefully.

"Plan?" I ask in a whisper.

"Kill things." Morgan replies. "Pick off the patrolling guards one by one, and then we can take on the two guarding the ruins proper."

"Okay." I mumble. I take a long, deep breath. "Okay. Just point me in the right direction."

"We still need to wait a moment, we need to see how the guards are going to patrol."

"Right, right, right."

The wait is agonizing. We watch the three guards slowly patrol around the edge of their camp. An obvious problem presents itself in that the camp isn't particularly large, so it's rare that they're out of each other's view.

"We need somewhere we can get an unnoticed kill, at least for a few moments." I whisper. "Maybe just as someone comes around the side of one of the ruins?"

"Maybe." Morgan mutters. "We'd have to get in position without being noticed though."

"Well…" I say slowly. "Maybe not."

"How so?"

"Only one of them has a bow. If we can take him out, then your range advantage might be enough to deal with the rest of them. We might not need to isolate them if we can take out the archer."

"Might." Morgan emphasises. "Though that is a good point. There isn't necessarily going to be a clean way to deal with this."

"Hmm…" I frown. My mind flicks between a few other locations and a few crappy plans before settling on… "Hey, I have another idea."

"What?"

"I look like a brigand, right?"

"Yeah…?"

"So, what if I were to just walk up to them, and say I'm new. Maybe I went off to take a piss or something and came back to everyone being gone." I offer. "I might be able to distract one or two of them so you can shoot 'em in the back."

"That's risky…"

"Yes, but what plan do we have that isn't risky?"

"True." Morgan grimaces. She's not exactly happy about that fact, but it's a fact nonetheless. "I don't want you walking into danger like that though."

"Choose the logically best plan, ignore your emotions." I murmur. "What do we do?"

"Aaugh…" Morgan groans. "Okay, fine. Go be a distraction. I'll blast them from behind. Don't die."

"That's the plan… or at least I hope it is." I mutter as I cautiously climb down the tree. Morgan clambers after me, and is notably more nimble than myself.

I wait a moment so Morgan can put some distance between herself and me, take a deep breath, and saunter towards the camp.

"Hey!" I bark to one of the guards, trying to sound as gruff as I can. "Where the fuck did everyone go!?"

"Who the fuck are you!?" The guard shouts back.

"I'm Garnef!" I say, using the first name that comes to mind… which just happens to be an old fire emblem villain. Well, too late to change that now. "The new guy? Remember?" I frown. "Goddamnit, why can't you guys ever remember me?"

Honestly, considering I haven't been stabbed yet, I think this is going fairly well. Refuge in audacity for the win?

"How the hell did you miss the raid!?" The guard shouts.

"No one told me about it!"

"And you missed everyone leavin' too?!"

"I was taking a piss!"

"For ten mintues!?"

"I have problems alright!?"

At this point the other guards have come over to see what the commotion is about. One of them looks suspicious, but the other is smirking in amusement. Better yet, they're standing right next to each other and one of those two has a bow.

"Any second now Morgan…" I think while crossing my arms. "Light 'em up. Kill the archer."

The girl doesn't disappoint. A fireball comes roaring out of the trees and engulfs the two spectating guards. It takes a few seconds to fully kill them, and they scream in pain and fall to the floor in the meantime. I didn't realize elfire worked as a small area-of-effect attack. Both guards are down. Nice.

I make the split second-decision to whirl around in Morgan's direction and pull out my axe. I'm not going to attack her, obviously, but I don't want the bandit near me taking a chunk out of me. I've never fought a proper battle in my life, so I'm going for deception rather than combat.

It pays off too. The person I was talking to runs right past me in a bid to get to Morgan, and I bury my axe in his back as he runs by.

Morgan calmly walks in and finishes off the three guards with swift flicks of her sword. "Three down. Well acted by the way."

"Thanks." I don't agree with that statement at all, I did terribly, but this isn't the time to debate. There's still two more to go. Hopefully we can take them out just as smoothly, but they certainly know we're coming. "So… how are we going to deal with the ruins? They know we're coming."

"Good point." She frowns while looking at the ruined building. "Hmm… okay, I have a plan this time."

"Shoot."

"Shoot?"

"Uh, go ahead." I suppose since guns don't exist the term "shoot" either doesn't exist or isn't used a lot, and therefore the slang for "shoot" doesn't exist either.

"Just boost me up onto the roof. I'll shoot them from there. They'll probably be expecting us to come in the front." Morgan suggests.

That's… really smart. She's taking advantage of the ruin's collapsed ceiling for an unexpected angle of attack. "Okay, but we need to be quiet."

We move as quietly as possible around the back of the building, which is eerily silent. I expected the two remaining guards to be shouting threats or something. Maybe they're hiding behind the door, ready for an ambush.

Well the joke is on them.

Morgan is quite light (or maybe it's just because I'm stronger than I was in my old body), so it's easy to boost her up to where she needs to be. Immediately after I can hear some screams, some female, two male, and the crackle of fire.

I hope Morgan has good accuracy.

I run over the entrance, axe out, and cautiously step inside. I sigh in relief when I see the two remaining guards burning to a crisp on the floor.

Wow, that sounds really terrible of me. I'm on a roll today.

Morgan, again, finishes off the slavers with quick licks of her sword after she jumps from the roof down to the floor.

"Nice shooting." I praise. My nose wrinkles. "Bad smell though."

"Oh, sorry, just let me get out my scentless fire tome." Morgan huffs as I help her down off the roof.

I turn my eyes to the surprisingly large number of young women and girls, crammed into these ruins. That group we saw brought out before must not have been all of them. There's… uh…

"Four dozen. Geeze. They probably outnumber the slavers." Morgan mutters.

We each search one of the two guards. I find the key ring (and some silver, score) and hold it up. "Here we go."

At this point I also notice how quiet the room is. You think with four dozen people in the ruins there would be some noise aside from me fiddling with the keys, but all the women and girls are totally silent. Some of them stare at us while some are looking at the floor or huddling as far away as they can manage.

I move to Noire first, and try the various keys in the lock on her shackles. To break the weird silence, I start talking. "You alright?"

"U-Umm…" She blinks, apparently surprised I'm talking to her. "Not great?"

"Well, that's fair enough." I cringe. That was a bad question. "How long have you been with these people?"

"About a week." She responds.

"Well, today's the end of that." I say firmly. I finally find the right key, and her shackles pop open. "There we go."

Noire shakily stands up. I try not to stare. It's weird to see her up close. Mostly I'm still surprised how well the in-game art translates to real life. I mean, her face is marred by dirt and her black hair is knotted and awful, but she's still totally identifiable despite that.

"Hey Morg." I call.

"Yeah?"

"One of those guys outside had a bow, right?"

"Yeah."

"Grab it for Noire. Arrows too."

"Ah, good idea." She turns in place and runs out of the ruins. Noire blinks in shock.

"You… know my name?" She whispers.

"Yep. Hi. I'm Nathan." I extend my hand for a shake. She eyes me warily for a moment, then accepts the gesture. "So, uh, we have no idea when the other slavers will be back, so if we need some extra defence you might need to shoot some fools, okay?"

"S-Sure." She says. I hope that means she actually knows how to shoot and she isn't just saying that to placate me.

"You probably won't have to, but better safe than sorry." I say. I then turn my attention to the rest of the slaves, and start opening their shackles one by one.

###

It takes three times as long to get back to the village as it did to get to the slaver camp. Part of that is the slowness of the freed slaves, and part of it is the fact it's pitch dark out and getting quite cold. A few people have torches, some at the front and at the back, but we have to frequently pause to help up someone who stumbled and is having trouble getting up.

We do make it back to the village though. We stumble in at… I don't know the time. I don't have a watch. It doesn't matter. We go knocking on some doors, irritating the residents, but when they see what we've brought with us they immediately jump into action. Soon the whole village is abuzz preparing food and finding extra blankets.

Mogan is useful at directing the chaos, but I don't have much to offer. So, instead, I sit at the side with Noire, talking.

"So, basically, me and Morgan are heading for Ylisse." I explain in a hushed voice. "She's a dimension hopper like you. Different but similar circumstances. We want to find the Shepherds. I presume you do too?"

"Th-That would be nice." Noire agrees. "I can come with you?"

"Of course. The more the merrier… and it will be safer anyhow. You know how to fight after all. More protection is always good." I shrug. I eye her for a moment, noting her tattered clothes. "Though we'll have to get you a new outfit first."

"I-It's fine, really. I can manage with this."

"Yeah, no. There's no way you're surviving without any warm clothes." I huff. "Besides, do you really want to be walking around in something skimpy like that?"

Noire suddenly seems to realize her tattered clothing is showing perhaps a bit too much skin, and covers herself with her hands as best she can while giving an embarrassed squeak. I snort in amusement. It's probably inappropriate to be amused by this, but this whole day has been surreal enough that I'm having a hard time telling how I'm supposed to react.

"Are you really laughing at a girl about the fact that she has terrible clothes from being a slave?" Morgan asks as she wanders over to us.

"Maybe." I say. I guess I technically am. Now that she says it out loud it sounds awful. I am doing terribly today.

Morgan shakes her head, but she's smiling. "You're lucky you can get away with that."

"I've gotten away with a lot more than I ever expected to in the last few days." I shrug. It's true, I would have never imagined I would share a bed with Morgan (innocently, but still), or really just any of the physical closeness I've gotten away with over the last few days.

"It has to be your natural charm."

"You're mocking me, aren't you?"

"Eh, half and half." Morgan shrugs. "I mean, your social awareness is… not great. But it's that exact thing that lets you get away with this, cuz I'm pretty sure Noire here picked up on that right away." She glances at Noire. "Didn't you?"

"Yeah, s-sorta." The girl mumbles.

I feel slightly disappointed, and embarrassed, upon hearing that.

"I wonder what the villagers are going to think though. You've picked up yet another young girl…" Morgan teases.

"You do realize I'm only nominally in charge of this group, right?" I respond dryly. "Besides, Noire is probably fairly close in age to me."

"I-I'm twenty…"

"See? One year. Barely anything." I huff. Morgan rolls her eyes. "And I hardly 'picked her up'. It was basically a given she would come with us. After all, you're a future kid too."

"You're no fun." The tactician sighs.

###

"I-I don't have to join you do I?" Noire mumbles.

Morgan frowns. "No, why would you- oh. Nathan!"

"Yeah?"

"Two rooms!"

"Oh, right." I blink. Me and Morgan actually never bothered to get separate rooms after the first night. It was partially to save money, because while Morgan has a lot of gold she doesn't have an infinite amount, but it was mostly because we just couldn't be bothered to change it.

Yes, just because we were lazy we never got separate rooms.

"We'll get two rooms." I emphasize.

The tavern keeper rolls his eyes. He got to hear the whole conversation, and has been smirking the whole time. "Take the room next to yours."

Morgan pays for the other room and we all go upstairs. Noire immediately gets changed out of her tattered clothes into the new ones we bought for her, and then we have an extremely late dinner (for free because we just saved a bunch of people). As it turns out, simple potato chips exist in this world (thin potato slices covered in vegetable oil then cooked in an oven), so I've been ordering those every single night. Morgan has been stealing some every single night, so whenever she does I take forkfulls of her main meal (usual chicken) as retribution.

For some reason this is stare-worthy for Noire. I don't get what's so unusual.

"So, erm, I meant to ask." I say after fending off another theft attempt by Morgan. "Noire, who's your father?"

"My father?"

"Yeah."

"Why just him?" Morgan asks curiously. "Why not ask about both of her parents?"

"I already know her mother."

"You do?"

"Yep. Tharja."

"It's pronounced thar-ya." Noire corrects in a mumble. "Bu-But yes, she's my mother. How did you know?"

"I have outside knowledge." I shrug.

Noire doesn't exactly seem satisfied with that explanation, but she doesn't push further. "Wh-Why do you want to know why my father is?"

"It will help me determine certain facts about this world that might be pertinent information." Mostly skills, if those even exist. Also, it helps me figure out if hair color is passed down, which will help me figure out who Morgan's mother is because unlike all the other kids Morgan can get hair color from her mother. "I'm sorry if that sounds vague, but it is useful information. I'm not just asking for curiosity's sake, though if you are truly uncomfortable I can get the information from someone else eventually."

Noire considers this for a moment, then reluctantly mutters. "Gaius."

Gaius huh? The hair color didn't pass down. Noire has black hair and Gaius has orange. I guess that's just a game mechanic.

"S-So what does that help you with?" Noire asks after a few seconds of quiet.

"Well, it tells me that figuring out Morgan's mother is going to way more difficult." I mutter. "There's a lot of information I had that's totally down the drain now. I'd have to ask some more questions to determine if some of my other information is still relevant too."

"Like…?"

"If I say "Lethality" or "Lucky Seven" does that mean anything to you?"

"No…?"

"Right, okay." So there's a chance that skills in the game-like sense don't exist. Maybe Gaius taught her how to pick locks or use a dagger, but in the realistic way and not through some gimmick. I think I can safely assume by this point that most game mechanics are non-factors. "Well shit."

"Sorry?"

"It's fine." I mumble. It's not fine. This sucks. That's a lot of potentially important information on skills and parentage that's totally worthless now. I suddenly know a lot less about this world than I could have. My only worth right now is that I have knowledge about the world, the people in it, and future events. Any reduction to my knowledge is a reduction of my worth, and a reduction of my worth might be fatal if the Shepherds decide I'm not worth keeping around because there's no way I'm going to survive on my own in this world.

###

I wake up with Morgan's face mashed against my cheek and her body on top of mine. The girl rolls in her sleep, a lot. I'm surprised it didn't wake me up. I wait for a few moments, squinting against the sun sneaking through the ratty curtain, to see if she'll wake up. When it's clear she won't wake up on her own I poke her in the cheek, repeatedly, until she does.

"Wuuuut?" She mumbles. Her eyes crack open to gaze blearily at me.

"Muhahaha, you're mine now girl!" I say flatly, not bothering with the appropriate inflection. "Take off your coat… or something like that."

Morgan pauses for a second, then snorts in amusement at the callback and pushes herself up. "Nice."

"Did I meet your expectations this time?" I asks cheekily.

"With that monotone voice? No way." She replies as she rubs sleep from her eyes. "We were gonna leave today right?"

"I think so."

"You think so?"

"You're the one who usually keeps track of this stuff. Sue me." I shrug, and sit up myself.

"What would you do without me?" Morgan teases.

"Die in a ditch probably. Freeze, starve, one of the two."

"Wow, the confidence on you in unbelievable." She drawls sarcastically. "Don't give yourself too much credit there. I might accuse you of having a positive self-image."

"I'll take realistic over positive."

"But that was neither."

"I disagree."

"And you're wrong." She steps out of bed, stretches, and grabs her coat. "Ugh… okay, let's wake Noire, grab breakfast, see if our stuff is ready, and get gone."

"Sounds like a plan." I yawn. I watch her find her boots (which she tossed aside last night), frown upon seeing her hair, and reach a hand out to correct the mess on her head. "You need a comb."

"Says you."

"Says me." I agree. "And probably Noire if we asked her."

"Oh really?"

"Really."

"Well thanks fashion guru." She snorts. "I'll keep that in mind."

"No you won't. You'll 'forget' immediately." I retort. "Won't you?"

"Guilty as charged." She responds unabashedly. She huffs when I run my fingers through her dark brown hair, trying to straighten it. "Come on, it's not that bad!"

"You look like you let a family of crows use your hair for a nest."

"That's… a very specific look."

"Your look. Because you don't have a comb."

"Well excuse my past probably dimension-hopping self from a horrible future for not considering a comb top priority." She pouts.

"Forgiven. I'm correcting that mistake now anyhow."

"Sure you are."

"You think I'm joking, but I'm not."

"Prove it." Morgan challenges.

"Fine." I put on my overclothes, snatch my coin purse, and leave.

###

"Umm…" Noire says tentatively, glancing between us. "Am I missing something…?"

"A comb." I respond smugly.

"Proper priorities for our money." Morgan huffs with her arms crossed. "Ow…"

"You have tangles because you didn't clean your hair enough. Your fault." I scold as I work through another knot in her hair with the newly-purchased wooden comb in my hand. "Now sit still."

"I'm eating!" She complains.

"And I'm combing." I respond flatly. "Deal with it."

"It's a waste of our money." Morgan jabs.

"My money. It's my choice."

"So what? My money is group funds, but you can spend yours however you want?"

"No. But you're too nice to let us fend for ourselves." I say with a triumphant smirk.

Morgan glares, but she knows I'm right.

"Besides, it was only a couple copper. Basically nothing."

"Some people would kill for a couple copper."

"Some people would kill you for breathing, but you don't seem worried about me wasting air." I respond cheekily. "You've lost Morgan. Accept it."

"I'm a master tactician, I never lose."

"A good tactician can't lie to themselves, otherwise they're accepting obviously false information." I reply evenly.

Morgan's eyes promise murder, Noire looks utterly confused, and I'm still smiling smugly. This is a good start to the day.

Chapter Text

I don't like my new body. It's stronger than my old one and more attractive, but it's not mine so I hate it.

At the very least my new body is convenient for traveling. I don't feel tired nearly as quickly as I would with my old body. I can last more than two hours of walking around, and do so through cold temperatures with uneven terrain at that.

Morgan and Noire are fairly endurant too, but Noire is malnourished and Morgan just doesn't have as much physical ability as I do. It feels strange to be the most physically able of the group though. That's never been me before.

That's why I end up giving the girls piggyback rides. Morgan eagerly accepts when I offer, but Noire is hesitant. I guess I don't blame her. I'm still a weird bandit-looking guy. I wouldn't be eager to accept a ride from myself either, or any sort of that physical contact for that matter, even if I am somewhat responsible for saving her.

Eventually, after some prodding from Morgan, she reluctantly accepts a ride. Morgan was a squirmy passenger. She couldn't sit still and constantly chattered in my ear as I walked. Noire is the opposite. She's as still as a board and totally silent. She doesn't rest her head on my shoulder like Morgan did, instead choosing to keep her head resting against the back of mine.

She's also keeping her upper body arced away from mine, which cannot be comfortable.

"Noire, I get that you think Nathan is scary, but seriously, you're going to give yourself a back ache like that." Morgan interjects. "I was fine, right? You'll be fine too."

Noire's grip on my shoulders tightens. "But…"

"Look, if you really were really worried about it, you wouldn't have accepted a ride in the first place right?" Morgan points out. "And you've already got your legs around his waist. So, again, if you were really concerned about something sketchy, you're already past the point of stopping that."

I blink and process that information. Something sketchy? From me? I already helped save Noire's life, what makes her think I'd hurt her now? What does having her legs-

Oooh, that sort of sketchy…

Morgan glances at me and raises an amused eyebrow. "You just figured it out, didn't you?"

"Maybe."

"See Noire, nothing to worry about. Didn't even cross his mind."

"Well now it has. Thanks for that Morgan." I think, and scrunch up my face at the girl. She rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue in response. "If anything, the fact that you thought of it means you have a dirty mind."

She gasps in a way that's obviously fake. "Me? Never! I'm just a child! Look at this innocent face." She frames her face with her hands and smiles sweetly, though in her amusement she can't quite keep it up and it quickly turns into something closer to a smug grin.

"Your smugness is showing." I say. "All I see is the grin of a devil."

"First you accuse me of being lewd, and then you call me a devil!" Morgan gasps. "My reputation will never recover! I'm forever despoiled!"

"Despoiled? Now you're just overacting." I scoff. "And isn't it defiled, not despoiled?"

"Defiled? Now who's being lewd?" Morgan teases back, dropping her act.

Noire watches all of this silently. I wish I could see her expression right now to know if she's horrified, disgusted, or something negative like that.

"So anyhow, point is, don't worry." Morgan addresses Noire. She really can change subject on a dime, huh? "Relax…"

Noire shifts in place, probably uncomfortable, but reluctantly rests her head on my shoulder and her upper body against my back. I think it would be best I don't comment on this whole exchange, so I don't.

"No comment Nathan?" Morgan grins.

Oh, so you're trying to make everyone uncomfortable, are you? I mean, that's par for the course considering what I know about female Morgan from the game I guess, but… "perhaps we should drop this, at least for the moment? While I might tolerate your teasing, Noire's clearly less comfortable with it." I'm not even sure what Morgan was trying to insinuate with that comment, because her tone suggested an insinuation.

Morgan balks, hesitates, then nods. "Alright. I'll wait until my next ride."

"You assume you're getting another one." I huff.

"Of course I am! We still have weeks of travel, and you aren't about to pass up the chance to have a cute girl wrapped…" She trails off. "Sorry, stopping."

"Thank you." Oh, so that was the insinuation. Maybe I was more accurate than I assumed when I joked that she was a lewd girl.

We walk in silence for a few minutes before Morgan speaks up. "Incidentally Noire, I'm an adult. No need to look so worried."

So Noire was making a face… people thinking I'm taking advantage of Morgan better not be a running joke. I mean, I don't mind when Morgan jokes about it, but she knows it's a joke. Otherwise it's is really inconvenient.

Well, I guess I am taking advantage of Morgan, but I'm taking advantage of her kindness, not… her body.

I don't like this train of thought. Moving on.

###

I kinda forgot the medieval ages had a lot less music variety. When I started singing quietly to myself, Morgan and Noire instantly took an interest. My singing voice is awful, but I guess the novelty of new styles of songs outweighs that.

I try and go through as many styles as I can, but I really only listen to pop and rock. I have to wonder how they'd take to heavy metal if they could hear it, or techno for that matter.

I sing as many songs as I can remember before my voice gives out. Proper songs, parody songs, video game songs, anything. Lost in Thoughts all Alone and both versions of Edge of Dawn are a given, but I throw in about a dozen Sonic songs, multiple themes for television shows, and a few proper songs like You Don't Mess Around with Jim and American Pie. I sing various things for about an hour before my voice is hoarse and I have to stop.

At the very least it seems to make Noire less cautious of me and lends some credibility to my claim of being an outrealmer.

I feel a sense of melancholy after I stop singing. If this is real, if this isn't a coma, I'll never be able to hear those songs again. It's not the same to sing them as it is to hear them. The internet, the internet, I'll never get that again. Books and plays just don't compare. There's a reason the internet is so addicting, it's awesome. I wish more than anything now that I was good with music or electronics so I could at least recreate some of my world here, but I don't even really know how a lightbulb works. I know you push electricity through a coiled wire, but I don't know why or how that does anything.

"What's up?" Morgan asks. Of course she noticed. I'll have to learn to be more subtle. No one likes angst from other people. I know I find it annoying. I mean, if it was something important I'd be sympathetic, but something as pointless as not being able to have internet? That would be irritating.

"Nothing."

She raises an eyebrow, not convinced.

"Nothing important." I clarify. "Nothing you could do anything about either, so don't worry."

"If you're trying to get me to ignore it, you're doing a terrible job." Morgan says bluntly. "Let me be the judge of what I can and can't do."

"Unless you can invent electricity, implement it into numerous instruments, invent an incredibly complicated system of devices to make a computer, or know how to make a portal to a world that may or may not be connected to the outrealms at all that I have no idea of being able to really direct you towards, you can't help." I say bluntly.

Morgan blinks slowly. Noire is staring at me. "So… you're not from the outrealms?"

"Hell if I know." I shrug. Adrenaline is starting to pump in my veins as my frustration spikes. "In my world magic doesn't exist. Also, I'm not sure if this is a hallucination or if I'm in a coma or something right now. Regardless of if this is real or not, I want out."

Morgan thinks it over. All of us are silent for almost two minutes. The world is quiet except for slight wind and the faint rustle of grass as Noire shifts from foot to foot with unease scrawled on her face.

Didn't I resolve to not tell Morgan about my situation? I just outed myself because I was frustrated. Great self-control there Nathan.

"You know, you being an outrealmer was a bit unbelievable before." Morgan says quietly. "I didn't discount the idea, but I was also taking under consideration that you might be a little insane. Then you sang all those songs, and I realized there's no way you could have just made all that up. You sang styles that don't exist here, you used words and referenced things that don't exist. I believed you were an outrealmer at that point, so believing that you're from somewhere outside the outrealms, especially considering your future vision that you won't explain, isn't too much of a stretch."

So she believes me, yay. Doesn't solve my problem. Then again, my problem is petty, I shouldn't have reacted so strongly. It was a dangerous choice to show my hand. I had refuge in Morgan not understanding where I was from. I didn't have to explain that they're characters from a game. There was safety in keeping Morgan in the dark. I made a mistake because I'm too emotional, as usual.

"Look, it's nothing. You can't help." I say bitterly. I'm aware of the venom in my voice, but it's hard to keep out. I've never been good at emotional control. "Not your fault, not your problem. If this is real, I don't expect there to be a way back. I'll just have to deal with how archaic this world is. That's ignoring the fact that I won't see my family again either."

The bile in my voice has only increased. My face contorts into a snarl. It's not really directed at Morgan, just the world in general. I've always found it easy to hate and to work myself up, and this situation is unfortunately perfect for both of those things.

I make an attempt to reign myself in. "There's no point getting involved with my issues. Sometimes there's no happy ending. I've resigned myself that this world is going to suck compared to mine, for both petty and proper reasons. Just let me be bitter. I'll get tired of it eventually. This is beyond both of our capabilities by a huge margin." My voice is hoarse, my eyes are probably red.

Morgan doesn't look happy with that answer. She frowns and crosses her arms while looking in my direction. I don't meet her eyes, instead choosing to glare at a tree to my left.

I'm partially expecting Morgan to scold me for my childish outburst. That's what I'm used to. You're never supposed to show anger to anyone. No one likes anger, I know I don't. Morgan's response is different though.

"You don't know any way back?"

I shake my head silently. Speaking is a bad idea right now I think.

"I don't have a solution." Morgan says quietly. "Crossing universes? Not my expertise… even if I've done it before apparently. I can't get you home. Not any time soon anyways, and if you're right then probably not ever."

Thanks for confirming that. I guess I was hoping she'd magically come up with a solution, but that's unreasonable to think.

"However." Morgan says. Her mouth sets into a firm line. "You're responsible for saving my life-"

"Maybe I saved you." I cut in with a harsh hiss. Harsher than I intended. "I have no idea if the Risen would have come in an hour or two years. It might have been pointless for me to take you out of those ruins, and you have no proof of anything I did anyhow."

"-and I have no intent of abandoning you." Morgan continues, ignoring my words. "I know you're worried about that. It's why you make a joke of it, right? I can't send you home, but I can try and help you deal with this world and find something worthwhile."

"Don't make that sort of promise." I say sharply. "You have your own problems. Don't take on mine. You don't know if you'll be around me enough to keep that promise, or if you'll want to be around me that long."

"If you're a total jerk, maybe, but I really don't think that's the case." Morgan says firmly. "If you'll let me, I will help you. I happen to be fond of you if you haven't noticed already. This world might be worse than yours, but it doesn't have to be bad. Worse and bad are two different things."

"I'd say it's bad. There's probably going to be a war, not to mention a world-killing dragon. Everyone is pretty racist, not to mention probably sexist, and I by no means enjoy any of the activities people would expect a man to do." I reply. "All in all… bad."

"There won't always be a war though." Morgan says quietly. "And people always suck. I doubt that's changed where you come from."

Considering the state of politics at the time I left, I really can't deny that. "Yeah… maybe I'm overreacting…"

"Just a little. I wouldn't exactly be happy about being pulled out of my home never to return, especially if I actually liked my home." Morgan says sympathetically. "I may have amnesia, but that means I don't know what I'm missing. You do, and acutely."

I hate this. I really do. I don't hate Morgan of course. No, I hate that this conversation happened, I hate the situation I'm in, I hate this world, and I hate that this doesn't look like a coma anymore. I hate that I can't keep myself under control, I hate that I don't feel like I deserve Morgan's help. I know I'm useless. I'm petrified of battle, have no useful skills for living in medieval times, and only have some vague future-knowledge and a new body to prevent me from being a total dead weight.

I want to accept Morgan's help for selfish reasons, and I don't want to accept because I know I'll be more of a burden than a help in the long run. Morgan's goodwill isn't going to be infinite.

But at heart, I suppose I've always been selfish. There's no way I can pass up help in my situation. I'm not in a position to refuse unless I want to die in a gutter somewhere sooner rather than later.

"Alright…" I mutter, still feeling terrible about this whole situation.

"Good." Morgan nods.

"If there's something I can do in return then, tell me." I insist. "I don't have many useful skills, but…"

"Got it." She smiles.

To the side, Noire lets out a quiet sigh of relief. I'd forgotten she was there.

###

Camping is different now that we have Noire. For one thing, we don't have to use controlled explosions to knock birds out of trees for food anymore. Noire can just shoot them. Granted we brought food along with us, so Noire doesn't need to hunt, but we all agree it's a good idea to supplement our supplies whenever possible, just in case.

Noire is quiet in comparison to me and Morgan. Me and Morgan talk about my world or this world (mostly my world because Morgan is curious, and there isn't much she can tell me about this world at the moment), I recount various media properties like Batman, Mario, Sonic, Teen Titans, and really anything I can think of. When my voice is tired from speaking so much, Morgan takes over to talk about the basics of tactics and strategy, if only to fill the quiet. Any attempt to try and pull Noire into the conversation doesn't last long. She'll speak quietly, and listen more than talk. I guess she's not comfortable with either of us. I can understand why she wouldn't like me, but Morgan?

Maybe she feels like a bit of a third wheel…

Incidentally, I take the time to explain Fire Emblem to Morgan. Now that she knows about my world, I might as well spill the details on how I know what I know. I can tell the instant she realizes that I'm talking about this world and people she actually knows because she sits up straight and listens in dead silence. Even Noire, who was mostly ignoring us while making arrows, stops what she's doing to listen.

"So that's what you mean by future sight." Morgan says quietly when I finish my explanation. "You… controlled us?"

"Well no. It's more like… moving pieces on a board that happen to have a lot of your traits. It was a game to us. A game created by people that was supposed to be entirely fictional. Magic doesn't even exist in our world and we have no confirmed knowledge of other dimensions. I don't know what sort of freak chance made a game that happens to resemble this world exist in the one I came from, but that's the fact of the matter." I sigh. "So I have no idea how accurate my knowledge actually is, and any deviations might have a ripple effect of making my knowledge progressively less accurate and useful."

"But that might be for the better." Morgan notes.

"Maybe." I agree.

"By the way." Morgan says. "I've been meaning to ask, what combat training did you have back home? Do you know some sort of super elite axe techniques?"

"Absolutely none." I sigh. "I was a civilian. My only arguable skill is writing, and not even very good writing."

"Oh." Morgan blinks. "A civilian?"

"Yeah."

"That explains so much." Morgan mutters. "I was under the assumption you were a warrior. Geeze, no wonder you're so panicky."

Ouch, but true. The conversation mostly ends there.

Today has been a heavy day. I feel emotionally and physically exhausted. Me and Morgan watch Noire cook some birds she shot over the fire. I'm slouched over with hands on my knees to keep myself up. Morgan, who's sitting next to me, leans into my side. I appreciate the contact. Something about touch is just… soothing. Maybe it's just the child in me that likes it.

"Thanks." I mutter quietly. I'm not sure if it's loud enough for Morgan to hear, but it must be because she ends up responding.

"Thanks?" She questions, and smirks. "Nathan… you know how we shared a bed for, like, three days?"

"Yes…?"

"Did you assume I was just humoring you or something?"

"Yes." Of course I did. I'm surprised she put up with it the first day, much less longer than that. "I got the impression you were indifferent to it, or doing it for my sake."

"Of course you did." Morgan sighs. "Well that's not the case."

"Oh." I guess I could have inferred that, but there's something that just seems… wrong about Morgan being okay with being around me. It feels like a joke, like there's no way it could actually be true.

"So no need to say thanks. I'm fond of this too." She clarifies.

"Right." That feels too good to be true. There's a part of me that thinks she's lying just to make me feel better. "Morgan."

"Hmm?"

"Are you telling the truth?"

Morgan hums. "You have reason to doubt me?"

"I already know you think I'm fragile, and you're not exactly wrong." I mutter. "So I think I have a reason to assume you might lie for my sake."

The girl nods, then says in a neutral tone. "You know you're paranoid, right?"

"I'm well aware."

"Trust issues too."

"That's the reason for my question."

"I can't help but feel this is just an offshoot of your self-worth issues as well."

"Probably."

Morgan rolls her eyes. "Well I'm telling the truth, chill out. Like I said, I happen to be fond of this. You're worrying waaaay too much."

"But-"

"Nathan." She cuts me off. "You know how you said to ask if I needed anything?"

"Uh, yes?"

"I need you to stop being ridiculous."

I let out a frustrated sigh. If only it were so easy to ignore my inner doubt. "I can try."

"Like, if it's a big deal we can keep talking about it, but I'm pretty sure you're having a minor doubt and unnecessarily working yourself up." Morgan clarifies.

As usual, she's right on the nose. "Yeah, that sounds like me." I admit in a mumble. It wouldn't be the first time I've done that. Working myself into a panic, or vehement hatred, sometimes both at the same time, is fairly standard for me.

So I try to stop worrying and let Morgan lean against me. I don't miss Noire breathing another quiet sigh of relief.

"I'm really not making a good impression on her, am I?"

###

I put a conscious effort in the next day to try and chat with Noire. It goes badly. Very badly. Unfortunately, my mind is the same as before I got stuck in this world, so my social skills are just as garbage as they've always been. Morgan understands that I have the social grace of a large hairball and doesn't seem to mind all that much, but I'm fairly sure Noire just plain doesn't like me. She didn't before, and she definitely doesn't after today.

The problem seems to be that I just don't have anything to talk about with Noire. We have nothing in common, she's not particularly interested in small talk, and she doesn't like talking about herself either. She also physically shies away from me despite the fact that I am already intentionally keeping a fair distance.

I wish I could just say I'm bad at talking to women (and I am), but… this is just me being bad at talking to people in general.

Morgan keeps giving me the side-eye as I try to talk with Noire. I think she understands what I'm trying to do, hence why she doesn't try to stop me despite the fact that I'm probably bothering Noire.

Eventually I give up trying to make conversation with the nervous girl. It's clear I won't make any headway.

Incidentally, Morgan was correct when she said she'd get another ride. We still have plenty of distance to cover, and it's not like Morgan's endurance is going to magically improve to be equal to mine overnight. She wants to sit up on my shoulders this time, but after getting smacked in the face several times with branches she reluctantly transitions to a piggyback.

"So…" Morgan says in a quiet voice. Her breath tickles the back of my ear (which is actually somewhat uncomfortable, I don't like the tingling feeling it makes). "I take it your… whatever you were doing… didn't go well?"

"Unfortunately not." I sigh. "I felt like Noire was kinda being excluded, so I've been trying to talk with her, but I'm fairly sure she doesn't like me."

"Hmm…" Morgan hums. "Well, she was a slave not less than a week ago, and you are a total stranger who happens to know things about her and this world that you really shouldn't because this was literally a game to you at one point."

Yeah, fair point.

"She's probably still not sure what to do and is just following us because it's the only real option." Morgan murmurs. "Don't worry too much. It's only been a few days after all."

"Right." It still feels like a failure on my part though. "Do you think you'd have more success?"

"Probably…?" Morgan shrugs. "Do you want me to try?"

"Up to you." I murmur. "But if I would help her…"

"Alright." She nods. I think I can hear amusement in her voice. I can't see her face because it's slightly behind my field of view, but I imagine she's smirking. "And hey…"

"Hmm?"

"You were so worried about touch last night, but you're fine with this." She squeezes me lightly with her arms. "Hypocrite."

Yeah, I guess that is a bit hypocritical of-

"Or maybe you overcame your nervousness just because you really wanted a cute girl on your back." Morgan teases.

I make the decision to play along with Morgan's joke this time. "Of course. I'm actually a terrible brigand, didn't my clothes give it away? This is an elaborate kidnapping."

"Oh really?"

"Really." I say in as flat a voice as I can manage. "I'm taking horrible perverted glee from my current situation."

"Oh no. Ahh. I'm in danger." Morgan says in an equally flat voice. "Oh dear. It's not like me being on your back is an advantageous situation for me in combat."

"I could smash you into a tree." I suggest.

Morgan nods. "You could, fair point. However I have a good position to stab you from here, or to strangle you."

"I suppose." I nod. "If you were stronger than me, your situation would have almost no downsides at all. There would be no risk of me grabbing you and… slamming you on the ground? Breaking a limb? I have easy access to your legs right now."

"Very true…" Morgan muses. "Hmm, I didn't consider my legs, that's a very good point."

"It's still more advantageous for you overall though." I say.

"I agree."

"So perhaps I should beware of the dangerous sword-wielding girl on my back?"

"Well, the joke of me being in danger was under the assumption that you were a horrible pervert, so unless you're implying I'm a horrible pervert-"

"Well, considering you keep making mildly suggestive jokes, maybe you are."

"Rude!" Morgan huffs. She shifts on my back and tightens the grip her legs have around my waist. "I'm positively aghast!"

"I'm sure you are."

"Offended, really."

"Uh-huh."

"Beyond words."

"Well considering your jokes were at my expense at first, I think I should be more offended than you."

"But I am a lady!" Morgan protests sarcastically. "To accuse me of something such as lewdness would ruin me forever!"

"Right, as if your incredible tactical knowledge wouldn't guarantee you a position in any military in the world."

"Shh…" Morgan shushes. "I'm playing the offended delicate lady! Logic ruins the fun!"

I roll my eyes. "Oh, delicate are you?"

"Shut up."

"I'm fairly sure you're too strong to be considered delicate."

Morgan pauses. "I'm not sure if I'm sarcastically offended or actually flattered…"

"Both?"

"Yeah, sure. Both." She's quiet for a moment, then says. "Where was I…?"

"Offended delicate lady."

"Right, right. Eh-hem. How dare you accuse moi of lewdness! I am pure and incorruptible!"

"So you claim, yet your current situation is very unbecoming of a lady." I counter. "May I remind you that being carried on someone's back is not lady-like?"

"Nor is walking kilometers through the snow." Morgan sniffs pretentiously. "This is not an optimal situation, but I will take being carried over an undignified slog."

Noire is giving us the side-eye again. If she didn't think I was weird before, she definitely does now. Actually, she probably thinks Morgan is a weirdo now too. I don't even know the point of this weird role-play we're doing, but hey, it's fun, and it's a way to pass the time.

"On the back of a lewd brigand?"

"So you admit to lewdness!"

"I admit to no such thing, only that you think I am such."

"Well, be that as it may, I would prefer to be carried properly, and by a proper knight, but alas I am reduced to such a horrid situation."

"Carried properly? Is this about you preferring to be up on my shoulders?"

"Oh heavens no! The mere thought gives me heart palpitations!"

Really playing this up, aren't we? "Then what is your preference, my lady?" I add as much sarcasm to my voice as I can, and try to hide the fact that I'm smiling. "Shall I toss you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes?"

I actually grab her (lower) legs as if preparing to move her, and Morgan's grip tightens.

"Naga, no!" She gasps in exaggerated fashion. "I should be carried in the arms as a proper knight would do!"

There's no way I can do that for long, that would hurt my arms, but for a little bit I can do it. "If you insist."

Morgan squeaks in surprise when I reach around and grab her by the back of her coat. I wouldn't actually be able to dislodge her if she didn't allow me to, her position gives her a good grip, but she allows me to lift her off my back and carry her in my arms. She's not heavy, but it's simply not practical to carry things in your arms for a long distance. That's the whole point of the piggyback ride.

It's actually a bit weird to carry her bridal style, mostly because she's looking at me the whole time and it's a lot more awkward to walk like this.

"Okay, there's no way I can keep carrying you like this." I say flatly.

"Yeah, doesn't look comfortable." Morgan agrees. She slides out of my grip and stands in the snow. "That was fun."

"Yeah." It was fun. Not exactly what I expected to happen, but fun. I poke her in the nose. "Lewd girl."

"You were playing along too!"

"Oh sure, but I was just following the leader."

"I'm the leader of this group now?"

"You should be." I admit.

"Really?"

"The only reason I was in charge was because I had a vague idea of where we should be going. Though by that logic I suppose Noire should be in charge now." I muse. "But you're the tactician, someone who supposedly has leadership skills. Besides, you're also the calmest of us three."

"Flattery will get you everywhere." Morgan smirks. "I guess I'll lead."

"You say as if you weren't already leading." I say.

"Well yeah, but I wasn't really conscious of the fact I was expected to lead." The girl shrugs.

"Ah right… if you're not comfortable with it-"

"Nah, I can do it." She absently pats me on the arm. "I'm fine. It's a good point."

"Okay."

"Thanks for making sure though." She says. She looks towards Noire. "I'd say it's her turn to ride now, but…"

I glance at Noire, who immediately looks away. She was watching us the entire time as we were doing our weird roleplay.

"...maybe we should ask later."

"Yeah."

"We're weird, aren't we?"

"Just a bit." I nod.

Chapter Text

I sit very still as Morgan focuses on my face. I never considered there might be magic for something like this, but I suppose magic has never been limited to just tomes so it makes sense there would be some mundane utility spells like this.

"This is going to feel uncomfortable for a moment." Morgan warns. She reaches out and starts to run her hands over my jaw and around my mouth.

Her hands are hot. Not warm, hot. It feels like she's pressing two scalding hot water bottles to my face. She carefully runs her hands over my jaw, neck, cheeks, and around my mouth. The spell is specifically made to only burn hair and not skin, so I'm in no danger, but it's certainly uncomfortable.

Yes, you read that right. Apparently shaving spells are a thing. I didn't expect it to be by selectively burning away hair, but hey, whatever works. It's a lot faster than shaving would be on Earth too, so I'm not going to argue.

"That's so much better." I say as I feel my newly 'shaven' jaw. "Facial hair is so uncomfortable."

"I'll take your word for it." Morgan says. She taps her clean cheeks. "Perks of being a girl."

"It's not like you don't get any." I scoff.

"Shh! Don't expose our secret!"

"Our?"

"Womenkind." Morgan says with a serious (and probably fake) expression. "We have an illusion to maintain!"

"Right, right." I say. "Sorry for implying you have hair on your face."

"As you should be." Morgan nods. She's poorly hiding a smirk.

Noire is giving us the side-eye again. I'm fairly sure she thinks we're insane (or I'm insane and Morgan is humoring me). Morgan spoke with her yesterday to make sure everything was fine. Noire is still shaken up of course considering the shitshow that has been her life for the last multiple years, but she's "better than she's been in a while" which I suppose is good.

The three of us are sitting around yet another campfire. The snow is getting thicker the further east we go. I have to wonder if the lake/ocean effect has anything to do with that. The place where I woke up had no snow at all, and it was at almost the complete west end of Ferox, which would likely be near the western ocean which would cross to Valm. I suppose if it is winter right now, the further inland we go the more snow there will be because the oceans are still "warm" from the summer and were therefore passively heating the areas around it somewhat.

Just a guess. I don't have any way of knowing for sure; I'm not a meteorologist.

Point is: it's cold. Cold and wet. It sucks. Kinda. These furs are actually super good at keeping out the cold. I keep forgetting that just because these clothes are old-fashioned doesn't mean they're useless. People in the old times weren't stupid (well, they were less educated, didn't have years of science involving incredibly accurate tools and whatnot, so maybe they were kinda stupid in comparison to my time, but even so) it's not like the Feroxi just sit down and go "welp, guess we'll be cold then". No, of course not. People were (usually) smart enough to get around common problems. Maybe not quite as well as modern solutions, but effective enough for their purposes.

A good way to show this would be agriculture. Sure, in modern times we have all these huge-ass machines and automated sprinklers and whatnot. But it's not like the people in the past didn't survive. The plow and old irrigation techniques are old-fashioned, but they got the job done. It's not bad or ineffective, just less effective than modern solutions.

"Nathan."

"Hmm?"

"What's up?"

"Thinking. Technological differences." I murmur. I shift on the log we're using to sit on, so we don't have to sit in the snow. "Nothing much."

"Are you catastrophizing about your situation again?"

"Maybe?" I frown. "Not as much."

"Hmm…" She hums. "It's cold."

That's very random, but yes. "It is."

"I'm cold." She clarifies, staring up at me.

"Uh… we can probably put more logs on the fire…?" I suggest uncertainly. "Or we can move the log we're sitting on closer?" I glance at my bag. "We have blankets."

Morgan continues staring for a few seconds, then sighs. "Right, gotta be upfront."

She stands up, brushes herself off, takes two steps to the right, and sits down in my lap. I freeze in uncertainty as Morgan makes herself comfortable and rests against my fur clothes.

"Uhh…"

"Hmm?" Morgan tilts her head up to look at me. "Something wrong?"

"No." I mumble. My instinct is to assume she's doing this for my sake, but I push that thought aside. She's established that this isn't necessarily the case (or, at least, not the only reason) and that she takes some enjoyment from this. So I don't protest or complain, because it's not like this is unpleasant for me. Instead I lean forward and rest my chin on top of her head, and (very loosely) wrap my arms around her waist, kinda like I'm holding a very large stuffed animal.

I wonder how Morgan would take to being compared to a toy? She'd probably find it funny.

Morgan also seems very content with herself at the moment. I wonder why she's smiling. Noire is giving us the side-eye again. She does that a lot now that I think of it.

###

I wake up to Morgan yelping and scrambling out of her beroll. She frantically pats at her hair. I can smell smoke, and when I get a good look I can see her face is red on one side. That's not a blush, that's a burn.

I think Morgan rolled too close to the fire last night. That might be worth a vulnerary honestly. I think she woke up because her hair caught on fire.

"Maybe she needs to put something between her and the fire." I think. I remember back in the tavern how I woke up with her basically on top of me because of how much she rolls around. She might have rolled straight out of bed if I wasn't in the way back then. "Yeah, like a log or something…"

Morgan pats out the fire in her hair and stares sullenly at the singed bangs. Thankfully she doesn't seem to notice the burn on her face, but I rub sleep out of my eyes and find my vulnerary anyways.

"Here." I thrust it at her.

"What?"

"Your face is burned."

"It is?" She reaches up and touches the burned side of her face, then flinches. "Oh, it is."

She accepts the vulnerary and takes a small sip before passing it pack. I've never seen healing magic in action. I know a vulnerary isn't exactly healing magic, but it works the same way, right? Also, it's good to note that you do indeed drink a vulnerary. I was never quite sure if it was supposed to be something put onto a wound or drank.

Morgan's burn fades over the course of a minute. So a vulnerary is less instant healing and closer to powerful regeneration. That might be pertinent information later.

Noire has also woken up thanks to our conversation. She silently gets out of her bedroll and starts preparing for the day. She tends to be a bit grumpy in the morning. I'm not a morning person either, but she's almost hostile until she has breakfast.

After breakfast, we break camp and keep marching.

I never considered how dull travel could be until I had to walk for hours on end and couldn't read or play a game the whole time. It's not as bad as it could be considering I have company, but it still sucks. Day after day after day of nothing but trees and snow, and the snow is always getting worse. I imagine eventually we'll reach a point where the lake effect wears off, or maybe it already has and it's just pure chance or weird air patterns that are making it colder and snowier as we go further inland.

I suppose I'm lucky in the meantime that Morgan has an endless number of questions which at least gives me something to do as I'm almost always explaining something. Explaining the internet was fun, as well as trying to explain memes.

Eventually my voice wears out and I have to stop talking. Morgan picks up the slack easily and starts to explain fairly normal things, just to check what's similar to my world and what's different. There are a few things I never considered that could be a huge hassle. New clothes can take a bit to get. You can't necessarily just go out and buy some. You either need to make it yourself or get some created for you by a tailor (actually, there are several things you can't just go out and buy), transportation is slow and there's no real public transport, lighting up anything requires fire, news gets around slowly due to the fact that newspapers and the internet don't exist, and everything just seems so much more inconvenient.

Again, listening to all the various occupations that exist in this world as Morgan runs through them, I'm reminded that I don't have many useful skills for this world. The skills I do have also rely on writing, and my handwriting is not fantastic, and in this world you can't really erase mistakes you make when writing.

Hmm… maybe if it doesn't exist yet I could introduce the printing press, or at least give someone (Miriel?) the basic idea so they could figure it out. Then again, the amount of ink needed to mass produce any sort of text might be unsustainable at the moment, so such an invention might end up being useless.

One thing I'm hesitant to introduce is… hmm… I should ask if those exist. They're already old tech, and some other fire emblem games use them. I'd like to have one just in case, but… "Morgan."

"Do you know what a crossbow is?"

"A what?"

Okay, so crossbows don't exist here. Not sure how well that lines up with modern world history, but whatever. That poses a problem for me though. I'd like to have a crossbow; it's an easy-to-use ranged weapon and functions basically the same as a gun. Yes, I know guns use gunpowder and have different mechanisms, I mean that it shoots the same way. You aim, press the trigger, and it shoots in a (more or less) straight line. Guns are just modern crossbows. Different launch mechanisms, different ammo, same general principle. The problem is, if crossbows don't exist here, introducing them could be a major issue. I fear that introducing the crossbow could cause an arms race.

Think about it, a crossbow is hugely useful for any military. Bowmen might be able to shoot faster, but they take years of training. You can hand a crossbow to anyone, even a farmer who has never used a weapon before in their life, and they can probably use it to some level of effectiveness. The crossbow is useful not because of its power, but because of how many ranged troops it allows a military to field in a very short amount of time.

"What's a crossbow?" Morgan presses.

"It's… maybe best I don't tell you." I mutter.

"What!?"

"It's a weapon that could be made right now, and it would be very useful, but… I don't want to introduce it to a world that doesn't have it already." I explain. "I don't want to cause an arms race."

"Ah." Morgan frowns. "Okay. I… hmm…"

I can tell she doesn't like that. She doesn't want me to be hiding something potentially useful from her, but the idea of an arms race is giving her pause.

"Arms race how? Is it powerful?"

"Not really more so than current options." I say. My knowledge on the advantage of crossbows is very general. There might be other advantages I don't know of, but I'm confident in saying the manpower advantage is the main point. "The problem is how accessible it would be."

"Explain."

"It's a ranged weapon you could give to anyone, and they could use it reasonably well in five minutes of training." I say. Crossbows aren't like modern guns either, they don't have severe recoil which probably makes them easier to use than guns.

"Oh." Morgan mutters. "Okay, I can see how that would be an issue. Whichever country knew about it could field a lot of ranged troops without the hefty training requirement. That's what you were thinking?"

"Yes."

"Well that sucks." Morgan sighs. "I really want to know what it is."

"It would be useful to me to have one too." I mutter. A nice self-defence weapon that doesn't put me in melee range and therefore imminent danger would be nice. I don't even know if introducing the crossbow would cause an arms race, I'm just worried it could. "But such is life."

"Someone will probably invent the crossbow anyway, right?" Morgan asks.

"Probably." I nod. "I wouldn't be surprised if it exists somewhere in the world already."

"Then you introducing it versus someone else introducing it is only a matter of time." Morgan says.

"Basically." I agree reluctantly. I can see where this argument is going, and I don't know how to feel about it.

"So if you introduce it, at least you can be sure our side gets it before the other." Morgan says. "And it won't matter too much because crossbows will exist eventually anyways, right?"

I understand that logic, but it doesn't make me feel much better about introducing crossbows to this world. Can I really justify introducing new military technology earlier just because it would happen to benefit our side? Think about… the atomic bomb, for example. Yes, it was useful for the U.S. to use it to end the war and prevent more allied casualties, but does that justify them introducing the atomic bomb to the world in the first place? The crossbow isn't nearly as severe as the atomic bomb of course, but the same issue presents itself here on a smaller scale. Can you ever justify introducing new military technology? All you're doing is raising the stakes of future conflicts in exchange for a short term advantage in conflicts where the weapon is new. It's a double-edged sword though. If you hold back on military innovation, you leave yourself vulnerable to other factions that don't hold back. Doing the better thing, morally speaking, is the incorrect decision from a national security perspective.

Morgan does have a point though. Sooner or later, I'm sure the crossbow will be invented. Someone will come up with the idea of a trigger-based bow that draws the string back on its own. It's not a huge technological leap like blackpowder where the world could reasonably go a long time without discovering how to make and use it. If I were talking about a flintlock pistol here, I would absolutely say I shouldn't bring it into the world. As blackpowder was refined it would inevitably spiral into the creation of more properly modern weaponry, and the creation of bombs.

"Nathan speak." Morgan says nervously. "What's up?"

"I can understand that argument, and for crossbows it might make sense." I mutter. "But I don't like the principal of the idea. Just because it benefits your side is not justification to introduce new military technology. That's a short term advantage in exchange for just raising the stakes in the next war, because everyone else will figure out your technology. Unless there's a huge tech gap, that will happen."

"But we can't just give up a possible military advantage. What if someone else gets it first?" Morgan says unhappily.

"I know." I grimace. "It's a lose-lose situation. Hold back and get punished for trying to keep things from escalating, or escalate yourself and be the cause of an inevitable arms race. The moral choice loses militarily, and the military choice loses morally."

"It sounds to me…" Noire says hesitantly. I didn't expect her to contribute. "Like the only good solution would be for both sides to not escalate."

"But that would require them getting along, and if that were the case war wouldn't be a worry in the first place." I say.

"Ah…"

"And treaties don't work either. Some agreement that you both won't do X during war seldom stands when actual war hits and you have lives and probably more on the line." And, of course, there are plenty of countries that only care about themselves and don't particularly care about what happens to the other side. "It's rare enough to find individual people that honorable, much less a whole military command's worth."

There's a brief quiet between them. Philosophy is a bitch when you have to take it into serious consideration, mostly because it's rare to have any sort of concrete answers in philosophy. So many philosophers have claimed to "solve" X, Y, or Z, but when you look into it you can almost always find something wrong, and there are always a dozen rebuttals to any given idea.

"I guess the only solution would be to have only one side, so war isn't necessary." Morgan says quietly.

"Yeah." And we both know that will never happen. "But humans are too terrible, too petty, too stupid, for that to happen. After all, people have gone to war for things as ridiculous as "glory"."

Morgan nods silently.

So what now? I've talked myself into a circle. There are reasons to not introduce new military tech and reasons to do so. Do I explain what crossbows are or not? I'm not going to come to a solution no matter how much I think about it.

I sigh and push aside the philosophy. I could really use a damn crossbow. "So this is roughly how it works…"

###

"By the way." I say. "We need to keep a lookout for signs of Kjelle."

"It's pronounced "jelle"." Noire corrects in a mumble. "Not Kuh-jelle. The K is silent."

"She's also located in the west of Ferox according to the game." I recount. "Less so than Morgan, but still pretty far over. Before halfway through Ferox at least."

"Intending to add to your little collection of girls?" Morgan teases. "First me, then Noire, next Kjelle? Maybe you do have a more elaborate plan you're not telling us, hmm?"

"I plan on starting an army from the girls I recruit." I say flatly. "By deceiving them with fake future knowledge."

"Genius plan."

"Thank you."

"And you even managed to snag a tactician. Very solid start."

"I needed someone who knows how to run an army. I'm not going to do that." I say.

"So of course you sought out someone renowned." Morgan jokes and holds up her head in mock pride.

"Only the best for my army." I say, and pat her on the head.

Morgan snorts. "I thought we established that I'm an adult."

"I don't actually believe that." I say in my flat "I'm doing a bit" voice. "I just agreed to that to keep you pacified."

"How dare you." She says in a similar flat voice.

"I dare." I say. "I give you piggyback rides. You're a kid."

"You give Noire piggyback rides too!"

"Yeah, but she's not... small."

Morgan's eyes narrow. "Small?"

"Short." I clarify.

"Hmm…"

"What did you expect me to say?"

"Nothing."

Well that's clearly a lie, but I'm not going to push the issue. I think I have an idea of what she was thinking, and while "flat" would be a fantastic response I don't feel comfortable saying that. Playing it safe.

"Well, at least we both agree I'm the best." Morgan preens.

"Of course." I say, not using my sarcastic flat tone this time. "I don't think that was ever in question."

"I'm going to blush!" Morgan says with a wide grin.

"Please, I think it would take a lot more than that to make you blush, lewd girl."

"Never underestimate the power of compliments!" Morgan cries out. "Right Noire?"

"Sure." Noire clearly doesn't care. She's giving us the same side-eye she always does whenever me and Morgan do something weird.

"Just take my word for it Nathan. A girl likes compliments."

"And you say this on your authority as the girliest girl who ever did girl?" I ask sarcastically.

"Yep. The girliest girl. Fashion, cooking, sewing, demure attitude, waiting to be married off. That's me." Morgan says with a straight face. "You can't tell me my clothes aren't the height of fashion."

"It is a damn fine coat." The tactician longcoat is pretty awesome.

"I know, right?" Morgan says with genuine eagerness. "It's the best thing ever!"

"Remind me to steal it at some point. Maybe I can absorb your tactical genius from it."

"Ah yes, the coat is the source of my intelligence."

"Clearly. The clothes make the man after all. That's why I'm a brigand, I'm wearing the clothes for it."

"Ah, of course, how did I not see that beforehand?" Morgan gasps.

"Clothes are like shackles. By putting shackles on, you become a prisoner. By putting your coat on, you become a tactician." I say. "It's all about what you wear."

"Clearly!" Morgan cries dramatically. "How did I never see the connection?! By Naga, I think you've solved everything! To become kings, we must simply dress as kings!"

"Indeed!" I add in a similarly exaggerated cry. "We must find the best jeweler, and get our crowns as quickly as possible!"

"Right away! Let us be off!"

Noire sighs. I think she's regretting coming with us at this point.

###

"Ow."

Well, I guess Morgan is awake. "Morning."

"I hate this rock."

"You're welcome."

"I feel like I have a dent in my head." She grumbles. She does indeed have a red spot where her head was pressed up against the large rock I put in front of her to stop her from rolling.

"I could tie you to a tree next time." I offer dryly. "I'm not letting you roll into the fire Morgan."

"That happened once." She complains. "Come on Nathan."

"Nope."

"I'm technically in charge! You said so yourself!"

"Too bad."

Morgan complains under her breath all through breakfast. I act as smug as possible to rub it in.

###

So, it's winter. I didn't necessarily know that before, because I just kinda assumed Ferox was snowy because of how far north it is. The only reason I found out is because as soon as we reached the next town we immediately got snowed in by a huge blizzard.

Here's the thing as well: people don't usually travel during the winter. Most of Ferox goes into lockdown, especially the people living in small villages, because there is basically nothing to do during winter. There are no crops to tend, it's too cold to stay out for long (I guess me, Morgan, and Noire got lucky, and these furs must really be effective), and no one really wants to do anything. The only reason we managed to get into the tavern is because we hammered on the door. It's a stark difference from the first village. Maybe the ocean effect allowed the first town to keep running to an extent? The snow is much higher here, and it's a lot colder.

The owner of the tavern isn't exactly happy about us being here, but in his words "I can't just throw you out into the snow to die", so he's letting us stay. Stay for free no less. There's no telling how long we'll be stuck here, and apparently it's bad etiquette to force someone to pay when they're stuck in your place from a blizzard. It's "Feroxi hospitality".

So… free housing! He was grumpy, but I get the feeling the tavern owner is a nice guy. Actions speak louder than words and all that.

The downside is obviously that we're stuck in the tavern, and we don't have much company. Despite the snow blocking out so much, people are still busy. The tavern keeper's wife is busy with a number of crafts like knitting, spinning, weaving, and any number of crafts. The tavern keeper himself spends a decent amount of time doing repairs to the tavern and doing woodworking. He makes tables and chairs to repair the damaged ones, fixes floorboards, makes ladles and wooden plates and bowls, and spends the rest of his time either hunting or logging.

"I'd fix the walls and ceiling." He says once. "But I don't want to let a draft in."

Fair enough. It's already pretty chilly, and the cold is more noticeable now that we aren't moving all that much. Seeing as I'm otherwise doing nothing, I offer my help to the tavern-keeper (with the warning that I'm painfully inexperienced). He's glad to have help, inexperienced or not. Wood still burns no matter how poorly it's cut, and a fire of any given size heats as many people as can fit around it, so by helping with cutting trees and chopping logs I'm just getting him extra firewood.

By the way, when I said we're stuck in this tavern for "a bit", I mean months. Not days, not weeks, months. After the blizzard dies down people occasionally visit the tavern, but that's only people from the village. We are also told, and surmise ourselves, that it would be dangerous to travel in the dead of winter when a blizzard could strike at any time, especially without a sled or skies. Also, the snow eventually comes up over the windows, and that's way too high to travel in.

So we're stuck. I'm lucky that the tavern owner doesn't mind teaching me some basic woodworking (as wasted wood from my failed attempts is still perfectly decent firewood, so it's no real loss), but Morgan and Noire aren't so lucky. They don't have anything to do really. Neither of them are skilled in tailoring, weaving, or any of the tasks that the tavern keeper's wife is doing, and thread is a lot more valuable than wood and they can't really afford to waste it on teaching strangers.

So maybe it's not a surprise both Morgan and Noire join me in learning how to woodwork. There's very little else to do. The tavern keeper doesn't mind us taking some wood for our own projects either. After all, I'm the one getting some of the wood, so it's fine for us to use some.

Noire makes a backup bow, and buys some feathers and glue off one of the farmers that visit the tavern so she can make and fletch arrows. She's using wooden arrowheads, not flint or stone, so they're not as strong but most small game doesn't have too tough of hide (and neither do humans for that matter). These arrows might not be great against armor, but as hunting arrows (especially considering the power of Noire's bow making up for the material) they're perfectly fine. She also makes some simple wooden traps for catching small game.

Also, have you ever considered how odd it is that fire Emblem has 'iron' or 'steel' bows? I'm sure bows can be made of those, but a bow's power doesn't depend so much on it's material as much as with how much force it can fire an arrow. I'm not sure a steel bow is necessarily much better than wood. Maybe a 'steel bow' is referring to the arrowheads more than the actual weapon? Then again, I don't know bowmaking. Maybe there is a reason to have an actual steel bow. Maybe it does shoot further, or with more power.

Morgan makes some less combat-focused things. She makes a bunch of small figurines: soldiers, pegasus knights, wyvern riders, everything. They're crude, but recognizable. She also makes small wooden boxes that can be attached to belts. It's not as flexible as a leather pouch, but it's functional and durable.

This is why wood is great. You can make anything out of it. Speaking of that… I also make some items. First, I make a crossbow. It's a very simple crossbow, and I'm not sure how accurate it's going to shoot, but it's a crossbow. It takes a bit of planning to figure out how to make a trigger mechanism but I get something functional. Not good, but functional. I'm sure there are better designs out there. I now have a crossbow and wooden arrows. The other thing I make is a small, crude chess set. Rather than little figurines I go with tokens in the shape of the icons for the pieces. Those will be much easier to replace if they get damaged or lost. I hollow out the block of wood the chess set is made of, add wooden hinges, and add a wooden latch on the back. Travel chess set! The pieces can be kept inside the board. I need to color the pieces, because right now they're the same. In the meantime I simply carve a triangle on one set of pieces and a square on the others to distinguish 'color'.

Some varnish would be nice to even out the roughness of the pieces, but hey, a chess set is a chess set. No matter how crappy the pieces, the game is the same.

However, we don't have work all the time. As busy as medieval life is, there's only so much to do in the winter. So that's where the other main pastime comes in… storytelling.

For obvious reasons I don't tell a lot of stories. Neither does Morgan. Heck, Morgan has no stories to tell that haven't happened since I found her. Noire is rather reluctant to tell stories, but as the only one of our group that can really do so, she ends up telling quite a few. Thankfully the tavern keeper likes the sound of his own voice, so he carries most afternoon story sessions by himself.

That's all the major activities that happen, but through multiple months of being stuck in the same place other things obviously happen. For one, Morgan doesn't take kindly to me constantly putting stools between her and the fire when she sleeps.

"It was one time Nathan!"

"You almost rolled into a fire. One time is too many."

The tavern owner and his wife find this hilarious. Morgan has rolled into the stool several times by the way, so I remain firm in my choice to keep it there.

There's also the small problem of how fucking cold it is. Everything I just mentioned above, all the woodwork, has to be done by the fire because of how chilly it always is. Even then we often throw blankets over ourselves to help with the chill. The only time we're not by the fire is when me and the tavern keeper go out to cut wood (and when the snow goes over the window, we don't even leave to do that).

Fuck winter. It's better than summer because summer has bugs, and better than spring, and fall because they also have bugs… okay, winter is my favourite season, but this particular winter sucks because medieval heating sucks.

So when it gets too cold (usually when the afternoon hits and the sun goes down), we all have to stop working out of practicality. Our hands get too cold and we can't see that well. One particular afternoon the tavern keeper and his wife are actually out visiting a friend of theirs to share dinner and tell stories, so that leaves just me, Morgan, and Noire at the tavern ("just don't burn our place down" was what the tavern keeper said before he left).

"It's so cold…" Morgan says in a lazy drawl. I'm not sure exactly why she's stating that fact, it's been literally two months of this. We all know it's cold. "I'm cold."

"There is a fire. You are not sitting as close to the fire as you could be." I say.

"But you won't let me get close to the fire." She pouts.

"Under very specific circumstances." She knows this, so why is she bringing this up? Is this a bit? Maybe this is a bit. What role am I supposed to play? "You can move closer-"

"So I guess I'll just have to find some other way to stay warm." Morgan sighs dramatically.

"Go ahead if you want?" I say in minor confusion. Noire is staring at me with a flat expression, and I feel like I'm missing something. I don't like feeling as if I'm missing something.

"Oh good, well then I'll just…" Morgan says with a grin. She stands up with her blanket, and then walks over to me and drapes it over my shoulders and on top of my blanket.

"I don't exactly see how this is going to help you-"

She squeezes her way under the two blankets and into my arms, and takes a seat in my lap. She makes herself comfortable and warm there.

"What were you saying?" Morgan asks smugly, like she's won some sort of victory. "How is this not going to help me?"

What am I supposed to say? Am I supposed to say anything? I've always been bad at this sort of thing. Well, more accurately, I've never dealt with this before. At least not before I came to this world. What is 'this'? I'm actively avoiding giving a proper name to what Morgan is doing, but I probably shouldn't be intentionally ignoring this. So what is this? Cuddling? Well obviously.

Ahh, I'm doing that thing where you over-analyze something simple. Use logic. She's cuddling, she initiated the cuddle, and she has done something like this before. Noire always stares while she does it. Make the logical conclusion.

A crush? That seems like a logical conclusion, but to my ears that also sounds completely outlandish and unreasonable. I mean, I can sort of see how that would come about, but… it feels unearned.

Earned? Can affection be 'earned'? That's respect, not affection. Maybe I'm overthinking this. Do I just accept this? I have no idea what to do.

"Nathan?" Morgan whispers. She's looking up at me. When did she start doing that? "Are you alright?"

"Fine." I say by reflex. "I'm fine."

"Your expression says otherwise."

"My expression needs to mind its own damn business then." I sigh. "I'm probably overthinking it."

"Tell me." Morgan says. "What's up?"

I can't talk to Morgan about… Morgan. Can I? That doesn't seem right. It feels like something I shouldn't do. Besides, Morgan will probably just say it's my self-worth issues again (which it is, but what if I'm right this time?) and…

"Nathaaaan."

"I hate that I actually have to ask this." I mutter. "But are you flirting?"

"Yes." She says. She sounds slightly exasperated. "Not to sound rude, but did you just now figure it out because I outright sat in your lap?"

"I had an inkling before…" I mumble sheepishly. And I did, I'm not lying. I just pushed it out of my mind because the possibilities were too nerve-wracking, and I'm paying for it now. "Just wasn't positive. Not something I've ever dealt with before. Not to my knowledge at least."

"Really?"

"Yes." I don't like to admit that. Do you know how pathetic that sounds? Haha, laugh at the shut-in.

"Was that the problem?"

"Not entirely."

"So what's up then?"

"You're going to just tell what you've told me before." I mutter.

Morgan takes a moment to think, then says. "This is your self-worth issues again, isn't it?"

"Unfortunately so."

"I think I know what's going on then." Morgan says. "Let me guess, something along the lines of: I've done nothing to deserve affection, what is there to like, and why so soon?"

"All but the last one. I know things can happen quickly." I mutter. After all, when people ask people they never met on a date, it's to get a romantic relationship with someone they've literally never met before that point. I'm not about to raise an eyebrow at the timeframe here.

"So, let me give my perspective. Maybe this will clarify things." Morgan says. "So, first, you've saved my life."

"I-"

"Yes, you technically may not have." Morgan huffs. "Look, would you not be inclined to think positively of someone who took you out of danger? Yes, fine, you didn't save my life. You still went out of your way to remove me from a potentially dangerous situation."

Well I can't argue with that…

"Second, remember what I said before about compliments?"

"Yes?" A girl likes compliments, that's what she said. I'm fairly sure most people like compliments, but…

"Well I wasn't exactly lying, and may I point out that you do that quite frequently."

"What? You mean talking about your tactical knowledge? You're smart, that's just stating facts." I say. "Besides, I haven't said anything about your personality or appearance…"

"Doesn't mean it wasn't a compliment Nathan."

Okay, that's also true, but… "Well-"

"Nathan, stop trying to downplay it!" Morgan huffs. "Don't you dare!"

I go quiet.

"Besides, I think we both know you probably wouldn't give a compliment like that out of shyness."

True. Unfortunately very true.

"Also… well you're nice. Easily panicked, nervous, but nice." She shrugs. "How many people do you think would actually roleplay with me?"

I open my mouth to respond and Morgan glares a bit.

"Nathan..."

"But-"

"I know what you're going to say, Owain and Cynthia, but they're not here."

I close my mouth.

"Nathan, just- Look, I happen to like you, alright? You don't have to feel guilty about it. You've done things to deserve a positive opinion." Morgan huffs. "Seriously, it's fine."

Now I feel bad that she had to spell this out for me… I probably shouldn't bring that up. Let's stop the guilt spiral before it begins. "I happen to like you too." I mumble, feeling embarrassed just to say it.

Morgan's grin is very wide. "Good, then you can cuddle."

I nod mutely.

Off to the side Noire rolls her eyes and turns back to the fire. I wonder how long ago she figured out Morgan was flirting. That would actually explain the side-eye she gives us all the time.

With Morgan and my new… what? We're not in a relationship or anything, so… umm… our new thing, our dynamic (there has to be a word for this that I'm not thinking of), it doesn't actually change too much. The only real difference is that Morgan doesn't bother with a flimsy excuse when she wants to cuddle and simply sits down in my lap unprompted. It's nice to be honest. I'm much more cautious about initiating anything, but I do sometimes. Also, rather than putting a stool between her and the fire I sleep between her and the fire, so now instead of smacking her head on a stool whenever she rolls around at night she instead rolls into me. There are many mornings when I wake up with her having rolled into or on top of me in some fashion. It reminds me of the nights we spent at the first village when I forgot to get us separate rooms. Thankfully, she doesn't drool.

###

Feroxi winters are long. Five months long in fact. That's one month short of half the year. We got there in the first month, so we had a four-month stay in the tavern.

Morgan pays the tavern keeper generously for putting up with three random strangers. Judging by the shocked look on the man's face when he receives the money, I think she may have overpaid him, but she refuses to let him give her anything back.

"You didn't just house us, you also fed us and taught us to work with wood." Morgan explains to the man. "So that's worth something too."

Before we leave, we also procure a few more supplies we had overlooked the first time around. This includes extra blankets, some rope, snow shoes, and a single large tent. We'd get multiple, but my being able to give piggyback rides is actually important to our progress so we can't carry too many large things with us (because when I give a piggyback, whoever is on my back is the one carrying both their things and my things. The backpacks are small enough that it's not an issue, but the tent is probably the upper limit).

"Onward to Kjelle then, hopefully." I say.

"We shall assimilate another member into our group!" Morgan cries. "Beware Kjelle! We are coming for you!"

"At least there will be someone I know once we find her." Noire mumbles. "No offence to you two."

I understand. We may be her travelling companions, but we're not the people she has spent multiple years surviving in a Risen-infested future with.

"We just have to go east and cross our fingers. In the game, she's going after a certain bandit because he killed her 'master', whoever that is. Judging by the timeline we found Noire, she might still be training under her master." I guess. "That's not for certain though. What happened in the game isn't necessarily going to happen here."

"Still, that's the best we've got to go with." Morgan says. She raises her hand and points east. "Onward!"

Chapter Text

"I see it, I see it, and now it's all within my reach~" I sing. "Endless possibility~!"

I remembered that Sonic songs exist again, so today has been Sonic day for my bad singing as we make our way east. Morgan and Noire have heard me sing these before, but that's fine. These are probably the best songs (and by "best" I mean most well-crafted) I know the lyrics too, because most of the songs I know are parodies. Sure, I could sing some Instalok, but with all the gamer lingo in there it's going to make even less sense than usual to the girls.

I'm sure Morgan would find it interesting anyways. I think she's more interested in the style of the songs than the content (as you'd expect, seeing as rock and pop don't exist here). Not for the first time I wish I could play an instrument so I could let them hear what the songs sound like to some extent. Maybe not exactly what they sound like, it's not like this world is going to have electric guitars, but at least an approximation of them.

I'm usually the one that sings. Noire knows a few songs, but they're either pub songs or the old country-style songs you'd expect to hear at a festival. She also doesn't know that many compared to me. She can sing maybe seven songs, and I can do several dozen (provided I can remember they exist at least).

Worst though are the songs that I can only remember part of. A few good lyrics, or maybe the chorus and a verse, but not all of it. I don't know all of Sonic Boom, I keep getting the lyrics for Fist Bump wrong, and I'll never be able to go back on the internet to find out what they are.

That's not even considering all the pure music I can't replicate and won't get to hear again. Goodbye Sonic Medley, various game soundtracks, and all those remixed songs and music you can find online. That's no small loss. Music was a large part of what I did on a daily basis. It's weird to say that the natural world sounds dull in comparison, but it does. It's just a bunch of crunching, breathing, and rustling. Voices aren't crisp and clear, sounds aren't perfectly choreographed and timed...

Say what you want about technology addiction. People are addicted for a good reason. Especially for someone like me who despises physical exertion and the outdoors in general, the internet was a more welcome world to me than the natural world ever was… and I might not ever get to use it again.

Maybe it's best not to dwell on that though. The more I think about it, the worse it gets, and I'm unfortunately skilled at working myself up.

My singing has faltered and trailed off as I have this internal reflection. Neither Noire nor Morgan comment, though Morgan does silently shoulder-bump me in some form of comfort.

Apparently four months of being stuck in a tavern is not enough to make you forget the painful fact that entertainment in your new world is pitiful compared to your old one.

I start singing again and do so until my voice is hoarse. If my voice is the only way I'll ever hear these songs again, I better sing them often or else I'll forget.

###

I can honestly say I never expected Noire to initiate a conversation with me. Considering what her usual behaviour around me has been, I was fairly sure I was in the "avoid entirely or tolerate at a distance" category for her.

She chose her time strategically. Morgan just left to bath in the river (more like splash water on her face because it's still quite cold out and we don't need someone getting hypothermia) so it's only me and Noire around the fire. The sun hasn't quite set yet, there are still a few dying streaks of orange and yellow across the clouds. The world is quiet except for the fire. Animals and insects are yet to emerge; the thaw isn't quite to that level yet.

"Nathan." Noire says quietly. We're both sitting on logs on opposite sides of our campfire. My head snaps up in surprise and she flinches in response. We scared each other it seems. "I-I have a question."

"Uh, sure, shoot." I say. Then I remember that 'shoot' doesn't work as slang here. "I mean, go ahead."

"You know about me, right?"

That's… not wrong. "Sort of? I know certain things that are likely, but not certain, to be true in some capacity. I can't vouch for complete accuracy."

"That's fine." She says. "Or, well, no it's not. That's the problem I guess."

"I don't follow." I say hesitantly. "The problem is that I might know things about you to an uncertain level of accuracy?"

"Yes." Noire nods fervently. "I… I have things…" She takes a breath and suddenly she's shouting. "I don't like you knowing everything about me! Some things are personal!"

It takes me a long second to process that. "Oh, oh. Okay, uh… right." I can see how that would be an issue. Someone who is a total stranger claims to know about you, including personal details… okay, fair gripe. However… "I know certain things. Not everything. I only know as much as your theoretic game counterpart would mention during interactions with other characters.

"What do you know then?" She asks fervently.

"I possibly know that you come from a ruined future where Grima won and took over everything. You left via the power of Naga, a portal of some sort if memory serves, and arrived in this world scattered from your friends." I say. "Your relationship with Tharja was bad because she was abusive. Gaius died, your mother spiraled out of control, bad times all around. She tended to use you as a testing dummy for curses."

Noire's head droops to hide her face. I now realize I'm casually treading over very raw ground, and I feel much more nervous about mentioning anything else but I don't want to lie about what I know anymore..

"You have a talisman your mother gave you that controls your mood swings to an extent. You can still mood swing without it, so I don't know if the talisman actually has another function or not." I say. "You can't really control your mood swings too well. Sometimes you rage about petty things and it embarrasses you. You get sick easily and tended to pass colds back and forth with Brady when you were little. You're scared to go out at night by yourself. If for some reason you need to go out, you tend to ask Severa…" I pause. "I think that's about it. You might have a bit of a yandere side, but considering Morgan's sadism doesn't seem to be accurate and that trait only appears in one support for you, I'm doubting that's true."

"What's yandere?"

"Murderously possessive." Technically there's more to it than that, but as a brief description I think that works. Her support with Inigo really is the odd one out of her supports, just like how Morgan's support with Yarne really overplays her sometimes manipulative or selfish behaviour into outright sadism. Morgan's sadism didn't end up being all that true so I doubt Noire has much of a yandere side if any at all.

"Oh, I hope not." Noire says quietly. She's still not looking up at me.

"So uh, yeah…" I trail off. I don't have more to say. That's all I know about Noire off the top of my head. I'm sure the scramble conversations say more, but… "Oh, and your mother never taught you dark magic. That's it I think."

"I…" Noire takes a long, deep breath. Her hands come up to her chest, clenching her talisman. "Right."

"Is any of that accurate?" I ask hesitantly.

"THAT'S NOT FOR YOU TO KNOW!" She snaps. Her head whips up and her eyes burn into me. Her mouth contorts into an ugly snarl. "YOU ALREADY KNOW TOO MUCH! DO NOT TEST MY TOLERANCE!"

I fall backwards off the log in surprise. I know Noire has mood swings, I literally just told her that, but that doesn't mean I was any more prepared for it to happen. I hurriedly scramble to my feet and hope I don't look as nervous as I feel, but in all honesty my fear probably shows on my face.

Yes, I'm scared of Noire. I think we've already established confidence is not something I excel in. I've never been good with shouting, and shouting by someone who has a bow and daggers on hand is not better by any means.

Noire's outburst only lasts a second. Just as quickly as she snapped she shrunk in on herself and pulled all her limbs close. Her knees are up to her chin and her arms are around her legs. "S-Sorry…"

"It's fine." I say quickly. I sit back down, but my nervousness is obvious.

"If you aren't sure, I'd rather keep it that way." Noire mumbles. "It's personal, so…"

"I get it." I nod. That's incredibly frustrating, I'm even less sure how accurate my game knowledge is now, but it would be outright rude of me to try and insist she tell me.

Also she'd yell at me again and I say no thank you to that.

We lapse into silence for a minute until Morgan comes back. "You're next Noire." She says. Is it just me or does her voice sound slightly clipped? And I thought I was next.

Noire leaps to her feet and scurries off to the river without saying a word.

"So." Morgan drops her things at the end of the log and sits next to me on the log. "Why was she shouting at you?"

"She was just making a point." I say.

"By shouting?"

"Yes." I'm making this more confusing than it has to be. Just say it. "I stepped over a line I think. That's all."

"What line?"

"We were discussing what I know about her. I asked if any of it was accurate, and she shouted that it was none of my business because it was personal." I say.

"I see." Morgan says. Her expression is still carefully neutral. "And she had to establish this by shouting instead of talking because…?"

"Mood swing. Not totally in her control I think." I won't say more than that. It's not for me to go around sharing personal information. The only reason I'm mentioning this is because it's pertinent and not exactly a secret. It's only occurring to me now that, whether the Shepherds or I want it or not, I'm sort of a secret-keeper for every single one of them. To some more than others of course, but I know more about them than most of them are probably comfortable a stranger knowing about them. "Not for me to say more."

I can tell this is going to make me a lot of friends… and by that I mean a lot of people aren't going to like me very much once they find out. Yay.

Morgan kicks her legs and gazes up to the sky. "Nathan."

"Yeah?"

"What do you know about me?" She asks. "I mean, I don't know anything about myself, so… I'm curious."

Ah, right, she's an amnesiac. "I can't vouch for how accurate the information is..."

"That's fine." Morgan stares at me intently now. "What do you know?"

"Well…" Where to start? I suddenly feel very pressured. "Your father is Robin, that never changes. You're a tactician. Your mother… is not Nowi, Nah, Tiki, nor Panne, else you would have distinct ears. Hair colour inheritance doesn't work the same way here so I can't help you beyond that. There's a very real possibility you have a sibling, as in the game kids come from the mothers with the exception of Robin and Chrom."

Morgan nods seriously. The mention of a sibling seems to worry her if the furrow of her brow is any indicator. I suppose I would be worried if I'd forgotten my own brother or sister as well.

"You have a selfish side that isn't above manipulating others for your own convenience and you aren't very apologetic about it. Actually, that's a large part of your character in the game. You're not too worried about your amnesia. It's an issue of course, but compared to most amnesiacs you really don't care that much. It's an inconvenience, not a crippling trauma. You're intelligent, but tend to miss the obvious sometimes." That's almost everything. I feel like there's something important… ah, right. "You're likely from a different future than the other future children."

"A different future?"

"Yes." I say. "It's complicated. The epilogue claims you're probably from a different future than the others, but doesn't explain why. It's left up to the player to figure out why. From what I'm aware this might be because of a Days of the Future Past situation, where in the world the others came from you were possibly a villain working under Grima, and in this other world you come from you aren't…? Again, it's not really clear, but you're the odd one out among the children as a side-effect of your father being who he is."

"Right." She frowns. "Okay, that's less than I expected."

"As I told Noire, I know some very specific things about you, but that's it. I only know as much as your theoretical interactions with others and a few tidbits from the game narrative." I say apologetically. "I don't know your past. The game is about a war, not exploring backstories."

She nods to herself and falls into silence. I hesitate for a second, then cautiously put an arm around her shoulder to try and comfort her to some extent. I can do that right? I think I can. Morgan leans against my side, so I guess that was an acceptable move.

"Erm… I might be able to narrow some things down if you can answer a question or two." I murmur. "It probably won't help too much, but it's something."

"Sure, anything."

"Do you have a brand? It could be anywhere. Skin, eyes, doesn't matter."

"No."

"Okay, so your mother is unlikely to be Lucina, Lissa, or whoever Chrom's other kid is." I say. "It's possible that your brand simply hasn't surfaced, but that's unlikely I think."

"So I'm not a royal."

"Not an Ylissian royal." I say. "Jury's out on Chon'sin. Your mother could be Say'ri."

What else can I ask to narrow things down? I don't know.

"This is hard." I grunt. "I don't know how much you're going to share features with your mother. I don't know if your having light skin means your mother did too, or if your mother is someone like Flavia and you just happen to be white anyways. I suppose if I'm looking at it from the perspective that you should take some features from your mother, then your mother is unlikely to be dark-skinned or Chon'sinese. You're very pale and don't have epicanthic folds on your eyes. I guess you aren't a royal at all then."

"But my hair-"

"Hair and eye color are weird. You can have completely different colour hair or eyes than your parents due to… recessive genes? I don't know exactly how it works and it's unlikely, but not so unlikely that it's never seen." I sigh. "I can't distinguish between the facial features of Ylissians and Plegians either, so I don't know if you have a distinct sign of one or the other."

"Why not?"

"Well… okay, so some Feroxi are very distinct from Ylissians due to their dark skin, right? Same goes for those from Chon'sin due to the distinct structure of their eyes. The differences between Ylissian and Plegian to me, an outsider, are going to be non-existent. I don't study phenotypes so I don't know what to look for." I admit. "There are likely differences, but they won't be obvious enough for me to notice."

It would be like the difference between Canadian and American. Physically, they're not going to be that different. You could probably tell the difference due to accent, but that's a vocal thing and not physical. I don't know if Plegian and Ylissian phenotypes are going to be that similar, but just using game art as a reference I sure as hell can't tell distinguishing features.

"Heck, for all I know you're a Rosannite. It's really only Chon'sin and Ferox that stand out." I sigh. "Sorry, I guess I can't narrow it down as much as I hoped. There's still quite a few possibilities. Not Tharja, not the royals, not a manakete or taguel, and probably not someone with dark skin, but that still leaves more than half the cast."

"Thanks for trying I suppose."

"Sorry." I mumble.

"Don't be. You didn't cause me to lose my memory." She sighs. "I wonder why that happened at all?"

"If this were the game I'd say plot convenience." I say. "You're the child of the avatar, and as the avatar is supposed to be somewhat of a blank slate and quite variable, they needed a backstory for you that could comply with any choice the player makes, so they threw you convenient amnesia. How that works here in-universe though… who knows. No one else lost memories coming to the past."

"I guess I'm just special then." She says. "The universe recognized my greatness and had to put a limit on it somehow."

"Yep."

"Alas, the universe will be foiled for I am capable of making new memories! Take that, universe!"

"I'm sure the universe is weeping in fear."

"As it should be!"

"I'm back…" Noire whispers from the edge of camp.

"Just in time to listen to my plan to make the universe weep!" Morgan proclaims loudly.

"Um…"

"Right, I'm going to wash up." I say. I pat Noire's back as I pass by. "Thanks for taking over."

Noire's eyes flick from Morgan's now grinning face to me. "Uh…"

"Be gentle Morgan!" I call as I leave for no other reason than to confuse Noire. I can hear Morgan laugh when I say that and hear Noire squeak "Wh-What's going on?" Mission accomplished I suppose. I've fulfilled my weirdness minimum for the day.

###

"Look at this innocent village, unprepared for the magnificence that is me." Morgan muses. "Soon I shall have them fawning over me as the grand tactician I am."

"An empire starts with a single town my lady." I say in as sinister a voice as I can manage. "With these fools under your control, you can begin the process of becoming queen."

"Yes! A crown and a cape!" Morgan proclaims. "The clothes make the man! When I become queen, I will pass my coat onto you, and you shall become the master tactician who expands my empire as I rule with an iron fist!"

"Of course my lady…" I smile. "Our conquest begins here."

Noire is hiding her face in her hands and likely wondering why Naga stuck her with us of all people.

We don't walk into town proclaiming our intent to conquer it of course. We instead locate a tavern so we can have actual beds for a night and then go around purchasing supplies. It's the next day that we actually go about exploring the town.

I should clarify, this isn't the second or third town we've come across. It's been a few weeks since we've left the town we spent the winter in and we've jumped from town to town in the meantime. The towns haven't been as far apart as the second was to the first. That really was an oddity. Maybe we took the wrong path and skipped a town.

Also, we've been sleeping in the tent we got when travelling between towns. It's big enough for all of us (not a lot of space, but enough). Originally I slept on the outer edge so I wasn't next to Noire and Morgan slept in the middle, but after Morgan rolled on top of Noire five or six times I started sleeping in the middle. Morgan really needs a weighted bedroll or something to stop her rolling around all the time.

Anyhow, on the next day we explore the town. More accurately: Morgan explores the town and I follow her while Noire decides to stay in the tavern and rest. The first thing Morgan does is go around asking for Kjelle, as we're hoping to run into her before we start heading south. To my surprise we do get news about her. It's not from one of the locals, but a merchant who recognizes the name.

"Kjelle? You talkin' 'bout a girl in heavy armor, stubborn as a taxman with an ego to match, always goin' on 'bout being stronger an' all that?" The merchant asks.

"Sounds about right." I whisper to Morgan.

"Yep, that's the one. We're looking for her. Do you think you could point us to her?" Morgan chirps.

"Sure. She's just a few towns over. Go two days west to Northsnow, then three days south to Wolfwind. I have to warn ya, if yer plannin' on pickin' a fight with 'er, I don't expect ya to win."

"We aren't. She's a friend." Morgan says. I suppose that's not technically a lie. She's not our friend, she's Noire's friend… or companion at least. I don't actually know if they're on good terms or not. "We got separated a while ago."

With our information obtained, we go on our way to… wander aimlessly. This town is a bit bigger than the farming and fishing villages we've been travelling between before, so there's some actual dedicated shops and businesses beyond the village basics. Morgan finds a store that sells potions, various plants, and charms... and spends nearly two hours in conversation with the owner.

"Everyone think I am hack because of fakes." The woman says in frustration. Her name is Mariana. She's extremely tall, about seven feet, with long and unkempt black hair that goes down to her waist, dark skin, and brown eyes. She might be intimidating if it weren't for the bright white flowers woven into her hair and the simple flower-patterned brown dress. I can't guess her age. She's not a child, but she's not obviously old. "Apparently is common in larger cities to sell fake charms. Little wooden trinkets with no magic. Sold to travellers or unknowing farmers promising protection. They claim a charm will bring rain or prevent wolf attacks, but charms not do that. Not unless you have much more expertise than I."

"But there are charms that can bring rain?" Morgan questions.

"Yes, but they are inconvenient and expensive. Besides, charms always active, so for rain charm it always rains. Not very useful. Charm that stops wolves is much more useful, but it need large range to be useful in protecting farm. Very magic-intensive, so very expensive to make." Mariana explains. "Impractical for me because I spend more money to make than I can get for sale. Instead make smaller charms. Charms that help stop illness, give a little protection from magic, help slow down hunger and thirst for the very poor… small things. Useful things, but small things."

"For charms that slow down hunger and thirst, how do you make a profit on those?" Morgan asks. "If the people buying them are usually poor, how do you make money off them?"

"I do not." Mariana says simply. "Those are only charms I sell at loss, because I do not sell those charms to make profit. I sell those to help. I give them price because the poor have dignity. They do not want handouts, they want to feel like trade is fair, so I still charge price and pretend that hunger and thirst charms are very easy to make and say that is why they extra cheap."

I nod to myself upon hearing that. Yes, it's manipulation, but it's manipulation with the best of intent where the only issue in the first place was pride. Also, I think that might be something to note about Feroxi culture. The poor don't want handouts because of pride. Pride is more important than practicality to them. Death before dishonor and all that.

"I imagine the same goes for potions?" Morgan says. "Fake potions I mean."

"Yes." Mariana nods. "Not even vulnerary. So-called potions are herbs thrown in water. Sometimes even poisonous herbs! Fakes literally poisoning customers because they don't actually know herbs. Disappointment to craft."

"I can imagine." Morgan nods. "What sort of potions can you make?"

"Can make vulneraries of course." Mariana actually pulls out a few clay bottles (the one I have on my hip is metal). "Make my own bottles. More fragile than metal, but can charge less. Can make some medicines, but most people come to me for magic potions. Have potions that can help with magic resistance. Called pure water in Ylisse I think. Not pure, also not water. Strange name."

Morgan is enraptured, which is just as entertaining to me as what Mariana is actually saying.

"Can also make potions to give strength, help go faster, help focus… can do many things with potions." Mariana's mouth momentarily turns to a frown. "Often get questions about love potion. Love potion exist, and it work. I know how to make. But I think it is only bad people who ask for love potion."

"What?" Morgan frowns. "Why?"

"Because it's forceful manipulation. You are basically drugging someone." I say. "Right?"

"Correct." Mariana nods. "You understand."

"Ahh…" Morgan nods. "Okay, that makes sense. That never even occurred to me."

"You are child. Will learn."

"I'm eighteen!" Morgan protests.

Mariana blinks in surprise. "Small eighteen." She looks at me. "No lie?"

"It's true." At least I think it is. Maybe Morgan was lying to me right from the start, but I doubt it.

Mariana takes a deep breath and puts a hand on Morgan's head. Her expression is sad, almost comically so. I think she's being sarcastic. "Very sorry you skip growth. Don't have potion for that."

"I didn't skip it. It just hasn't happened yet." Morgan grumbles.

"It's supposed to start somewhere around twelve." I say cheerfully. "So you'd be super late."

"Nathan…"

"Oh, and it's actually earlier for girls, so-"

"Don't say any more!" Morgan barks. She's glaring at me now.

So, like the good friend I am, I don't say any more exactly as she asked. Instead I do what the Mariana did and sympathetically pat Morgan on the head.

Morgan's glare is withering, but I'm smug so I don't care. Judging by her nod, Mariana approves as well.

"Don't worry small adult woman child. I sure you grow. Just not on outside."

Morgan turns her glare to Mariana, and the woman's smile threatens to break her face.

Mariana doesn't pass up on an opportunity to poke fun at Morgan when we eventually leave. "Nathan! Be sure to water small woman every day or will not grow. Remove bad bugs and keep in sun. Eventually small woman will grow into slightly less small woman."

"Noted." I say with a serious nod.

"I hate both of you." Morgan grumbles.

We did buy things off Mariana (well, Morgan did. It's her money after all). Three vulneraries, a speed potion, a magic potion, and an anti-magic charm.

After I'm done teasing Morgan for being small, she hands the charm to me saying "you come from a place without magic, so I'm guessing your resistance is going to be terrible. Here you go."

I think I just got a gift. I got a gift. Huh. I mean, it's a practical gift, but it's still a gift. It feels unusual to get a gift not on my birthday or christmas.

"Nathan, you're staring." Morgan says. "Did I… offend you? Is that it?"

"No." I say quickly. "Just surprised, that's all."

"Surprised?" Morgan raises an eyebrow." About what?"

"I've…" Suddenly I'm beset by doubt. I'm assuming the charm is a gift of some sort, but maybe that's just because I'm overthinking it. I have been known to overthink things. It's basically been my defining characteristic so far. I might be reading into things too much. She just bought a charm because my resistance sucks. No other reason. "Nothing. Overthinking."

"Did I do something weird by the standards of your world?"

"No. Nothing usual." I say. "It's nothing."

"Alright…" Morgan obviously isn't convinced, but says nothing.

We split the vulneraries one each. Morgan keeps the magic potion and Noire is given the speed one. I wonder if they're the equivalent of tonics. That would make sense. I'm just going to call them a magic tonic and a speed tonic for simplicity.

Noire is relieved to learn that we're close to Kjelle. Soon she won't have to deal with me and Morgan by herself.

###

"So how do we want to do this?" I say nervously. "Do we just walk in…? Maybe Noire should lead? She actually knows Kjelle."

"Or we could go in and shout "hey bitch! We've got a job to do!"" Morgan suggests cheerfully.

"That's… let's not do that." I mutter.

"Worried I'll get cut down or something?" Morgan grins.

"Of course! You don't have much height left to lose after all."

"I am not that short!"

"That's only because you've been getting a lot of sun and drinking your water-"

"I'm not a plant!" She barks.

"Mariana begs to differ."

"Mariana isn't here right now." Morgan huffs. "So if you want to stay on my good side…"

"Oh, so you're going to stop talking to me over one joke?" I ask teasingly. "How childish."

Morgan pouts at me, recognizing she's lost. Besides, she doesn't really mind.

"Can we go in now?" Noire asks quietly. That effectively puts a stop to our usual banter, and we make the quick decision that Noire should lead as there's no guarantee Kjelle will even know who Morgan is.

We're standing in front of a fairly normal farmhouse. Apparently Kjelle's "master", the person helping her train, is a retired veteran of the Feroxi military who now lives as a farmer but will train anyone who asks so long as they agree to help around the farm.

So Kjelle has been living as a farmer alongside training for the last who-knows-how-long. I can't help but find the system this man has set up interesting. Extra labour in exchange for pseudo military training? The man gets help on the farm which takes the pressure off his family and gives them more free time (not to mention more money because they can support a bigger operation), the village gets a small militia of semi-skilled warriors, and the warriors get work, training, and a place to stay. When I heard Kjelle was training under her "master" in the game I assumed it was some sort of dojo or monastery, not a farm, but with this sort of system it makes total sense.

Noire knocks on the front door of the farm. I impulsively put a hand on Morgan's shoulder. It's not to keep her in place or anything, it's just to calm my nerves. Morgan glances back curiously, notices my worried expression, and leans back against me and tugs my other hand to her other shoulder.

I let out a deep breath and try not to grip her shoulders too hard. This should be fine. I shouldn't be nervous. Morgan is fine, see? Granted Morgan has a stupid amount of confidence and doesn't have extreme social anxiety, but it's fine. I'm not even the one who's going to be talking. Probably, maybe, hopefully.

As you might expect, Kjelle isn't the one who answers the door. This isn't her house, and it's not like she knew we were coming. An unremarkable woman in simple tan and brown clothes answers the door. She really fits the generic female villager sprite. "Oh, hello. Are you here for training? My husband is in the back."

It's clear to me this is not unusual for her. She doesn't look surprised to see strangers at her door, and her words sound rehearsed.

"U-Um, n-no." Noire stutters nervously. "We're here to see Kjelle."

"Oh!" The woman blinks in surprise. "Well, that's a surprise. It's rare the trainees get visitors unless they're locals. Kjelle will be in the back too. Follow me. She'll most likely be doing repairs somewhere at the moment. It's too cold to plant crops you see."

She leads us around the back of the farmhouse. The land owned by the family seems huge to me, but then again I don't know what a normal farm plot size would be. Also, we're still on the fringes of the Feroxi… empirie? Kingdom? Khanate? The Feroxi Khanate I suppose. We're still in the less developed areas of the Feroxi Khanate, so I wouldn't be surprised if people out here own larger plots of land than people closer to large cities and the more developed areas of the country. More land, but less protection and less access to trading and such. It's a trade off.

I mean, I assume it's a trade off. I don't know medieval human geography. Is that even the right term? Human geography? Should I be saying Anthropology? Maybe archeology? But isn't anthropology more about behaviour than the mechanics of land distribution…? Ah, whatever. Sue me if I can't remember every -ology out there and what it means. The study of how land is allocated, specifically how it's allocated in relation to a smaller community's proximity to major population centers. That's what I'm talking about.

That would be a very specific study now that I think of it.

Actually… who's to say Kjelle will actually come with us? In the game she comes along because she compares her ring with Sully and realizes Sully is her mother (which means that Kjelle didn't recognize her mother on sight, which is weird to think about. How different did Sully look in the future?), so there's no guarantee she'll follow us at all with only the vague promise of probably finding her mother.

When we get around to the back of the farmhouse, the woman doesn't send us out into the field to find Kjelle. She simply cups her hands to her mouth and yells "KJELLE! YOU HAVE VISITORS!"

Noire jumps at the loud noise, and if I weren't still holding on to Morgan I would too.

"She'll just be a second." The woman sighs. "Gotta finish up whatever my husband assigned her."

The woman leaves us after that, going back inside to… do something. Cook? Sew? Something less stereotypical? Who knows! I'm not looking through the window so I sure don't.

It takes about five minutes for Kjelle to get to a resting point where she can make her way over to us. I never realized how small she looks outside of her armor. She's not skinny or anything, she has some serious muscle, but she's much shorter than I expected and doesn't have a lot of bulk per say. Not skinny, but slim. Her hair is jet black just like Noire's, and she has shockingly delicate features broken up only by a few small scars.

"Noire?" Kjelle says. "I'll admit, you're not someone I expected to see. I'm surprised you managed to find me. Ferox is a big place."

"We sort of… cheated." Noire explains. She has a nervous grin on her face and turns to us pleadingly.

Realizing she wants me to explain and that I'll actually have to talk, I clear my throat and speak. "I have outside knowledge. I knew approximately where you were beforehand, and we used that to narrow the search area."

"Oh really?" Kjelle turns to face me, her eyes narrowing. "Any why would you know anything about me, much less my whereabouts, stranger?"

"I'm an outrealmer." I say simply, hoping that suffices as an explanation. That explanation is also technically not true, but whatever, I can clarify later. "I know certain things about this world, foremost being where you future children will approximately be located."

"So you're familiar with our situation."

"Yes."

"And why, exactly, do you have an interest in it? Simple goodwill?"

"Nothing so altruistic." I say honestly. "I'm woefully under-equipped to survive in this world as I never intended on being stuck here, so in exchange for my information I get to tag along and not die." I pat Morgan on the shoulder. "Mostly I'm just ingratiating myself to this one."

"Hi! I'm Morgan! The soon-to-be best tactician to ever exist." Morgan says cheerfully. "I'm one of you, sorta. From a different future maybe, but one of you. Oh, and I'm an amnesiac. Are you my sister?"

Kjelle is unfazed by Morgan's rapid-fire speech. "No, I'm not your sister. I've never heard of someone called Morgan. How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"You don't!" Morgan says cheerfully.

"Outside information." I say again with an apologetic smile. "I know it's true, and they're taking my word with it."

"How can I trust you're not lying to me?" Kjelle asks suspiciously. "That you're not lying to all of us?"

I sigh, step forward, and lower my voice. "Your mother never taught you to ride a horse, using the excuse that you lacked natural talent. You basically never stop training, and you have a bit of an obsession with armor. You have a particular fondness for a particular set of armor you wore in your first battle that is oversized on you, and you like to put it back on because it feels comfortable, reassuring even."

Kjelle stares at me for a solid five seconds. Then, in a quiet voice she says. "How do you know that?"

"Outside information."

"Right." She takes a deep, surprisingly shaky breath. "That's really creepy you know."

"Yeah… sorta got that impression from talking with Noire about what I know about her." I mutter. "But yeah, I know things. Only specific things, but things. Including vaguely where to find all you future kids."

"Vaguely?"

"The map doesn't exactly have town names or roads or anything. I'm talking about dots on a world map with maybe some location clues like 'wyvern valley' or 'desert'." I say. "Oh, and I know the general scenario they'll be in. I knew you would be training under a master of some sort, and I knew Noire would be dealing with slavers."

"Slavers?" Kjelle says, and frowns. "I hope you dealt with them."

"There was three of us, above twenty of them, and Nathan doesn't really fight." Morgan says curtly. "No, we didn't fight them. We're not suicidal."

Kjelle's mouth presses into a line. She doesn't like that response, but she can't argue without looking like an ass. "So you just left them to keep operating?"

"Yes." Morgan says simply. "We told the town guard where we found them of course, but no one in the area was really equipped to deal with the situation. It's unfortunate, but there was little to be done."

Kjelle shakes her head. "I disagree."

"Well good for you. If you want to go off and die trying to take on twenty slavers with a group of three people, be my guest." Morgan says curtly. "In the meantime, we're headed for Ylisse to find more of us and hopefully our parents too."

Kjelle half sneers half grimaces at Morgan's words. It's an expression of general unhappiness and malcontent that seems very fitting on her face.

"You're welcome to come along if you won't sneer the entire time." Morgan says. Her tone is haughty and authoritative now, making it very clear that she is in charge of our little group and if Kjelle wants to come along Kjelle be listening to her.

"Not sure I want to if this is how it's going to be." Kjelle sneers back.

Noire wrings her hands in frustration. "Kjelle, please…"

"Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot." I say, attempting to salvage the situation. "Regardless of our disagreement on how we should have handled a past situation, we still have a common goal, don't we? And with you coming along Kjelle, we would be more well-equipped to deal with such situations in the future."

Kjelle glares at me, but it's not total hostility. My words registered, she's just not totally convinced.

Perhaps understanding being confrontational wasn't helping, Morgan also changes tactics. "It wasn't that we didn't want to help, we just didn't have the power to. Our numbers were insufficient. Tactics and strategy can only make up for so much, and at the end of the day we're even less useful if we're dead."

Kjelle glares a bit more, but sighs in resignation. "Fine. I still don't agree, but fine. I'll come along, but I'm in charge."

"Hell no." Morgan says cheerfully. "I'm a tactician, and Nathan is the closest to knowing where we're going."

"Noire?" Kjelle says. "Who do you think should be in charge?"

Noire is not exactly happy about having to choose a side, and it's a bit of a relief when she points to Morgan. Kjelle seems a bit miffed, but relents seeing she's been outvoted.

"Fine then. A good knight knows when to stay in line." Kjelle mutters. "I'll defer to you until we find Lucina."

"Lucina?" Morgan frowns. She glances at me. "Who's that again? You've mentioned her."

"Chrom's kid. One of them anyway." I say. "Leader of the future kids."

"Right." Morgan nods. "Cool, that's fine."

"But I have to finish up my duties here. I won't just abandon my master at an inconvenient time." Kjelle says. "You may have to wait."

"We're in no real rush. That's fine." Morgan nods. "We're staying at the Grey Rabbit. Drop by there when you want to find us I suppose. We'll wait."

Kjelle nods curtly and returns back to her duties. We take that as a sign to leave and make our way back into town.

###

Kjelle needs to stay for an additional month, so we settle into town for a bit. Well Kjelle doesn't need to stay, her master said she could leave immediately if she wanted to, but Kjelle doesn't want to feel like she's abandoning a job halfway through and we're not in any real rush all things considered (if we're near endgame there's not much we can do anyways, and if not we likely have a year or so if not more if we haven't even hit the timeskip yet).

Incidentally, I have been asking for news in each village we reach, but we're on the fringe of the country and so far away from any action that it's rare news actually reaches up here. So I have no idea if the Ylisse-Plegia war has happened or is currently happening, or if the world is in the Valm arc yet. Who knows what's happened! I'm currently acting under the tenuous assumption that the Valm arc hasn't started yet based on the location we found Noire. Usually Noire's paralogue happens on the total east end of Ferox, not the west end where we found her. Noire's paralogue opens up after you get Lucina, who you get at the end of the second chapter of the Valm arc. Ergo, I think the Valm arc hasn't started yet, but is very close.

Actually, why didn't the slavers have any griffon riders? Usually they have griffon riders. Was that even the same slaver group?

That's also assuming the world acts according to the game timeline of course. Maybe I'm totally wrong and Chrom hasn't even found Robin yet. That would be weird, but it could happen.

I really hope we don't find the Shepherds before they've even found Robin. That would make for a lot of explaining. Heck, it will take a lot of explaining if we find them before Lucina has revealed herself. We don't have the convenient proof of the brand of the Exalt on us.

Actually, maybe Kjelle does. Chrom can marry Sully right? I should ask her next time we see her.

In the meantime we relax. I was worried about our money until Morgan informed me that she had enough money to support all three of us for half a year if we need it. Not that we can waste money exactly, but we aren't immediately pressed.

I also make sure to pass on a warning to Kjelle's master about his death at the hands of… was it Cassady? Cassius? I think it was Cassius. From what Kjelle passes back, my warning doesn't change anything. If he dies trying to free a hostage, he'll have died honorably and he sees no shame in that. Not that he's going to lay down and die exactly, he can prepare now that he knows it's coming, but he's absolutely still going to confront Cassius.

Again, there's that familiar concept. Honor. Pride. Stupidity. Maybe I'm being a bit too mean, but it's hard not to sneer at someone who thinks "a fight I probably won't win and will die if I try to fight, and there's no reason for me to not back off and get help? Guess I'll die anyways to not mildly disappoint myself despite the fact that I know several people will miss me."

Or maybe his preparation will be enough and I'm being unnecessarily cruel. Who knows?

Anyhow, with a month to kill me and Morgan do the logical thing and burn down a forest. By that I mean we hunt, partially for food so we don't have to buy it all and partially so I can get practice with my crossbow. When I inevitably fail to hit something with my crossbow Morgan blows it out of the sky or off its feet with elfire so we don't lose prey because of my incompetence. It's from this hunting practice that I start to understand the issues with my current crossbow design… or more accurately the bolts. The bolts are small enough that they don't stay straight when being shot out of the crossbow. Sometimes they even scrape the side of the… barrel? What would I call that part? The chute? The furrow that the arrows follow when they're being shot, that thing. It has scrapes now because the bolts were too small. I spend some time trying new bolts over the month to find something that works better.

Anyhow, you can guess why we almost start a forest fire when we're using elfire to kill wildlife. It's only thanks to the remaining snow on the pine needles that the entire forest doesn't go up when Morgan's spell unexpectedly lights a tree on fire and catches the pine needles causing a suddenly massive fire that burns down the whole tree in minutes, and by some miracle doesn't jump to other trees.

It's a shame no one in the town sells tomes, because Morgan would gladly buy a thunder or wind tome after that near disaster.

Noire mostly keeps to herself. She also hunts, but she does so alone because me and Morgan just don't have her stealth. Otherwise she simply disappears for most of the day and returns for dinner. Morgan gave her some money to do with as she wished, like an allowance, so I assume that's getting used but I have no idea on what. It's not like there's dedicated entertainment here in a small town. Maybe she has work?

Speaking of work, seeing as I have a lot of free time and basically nothing to spend it on when not following Morgan around, I make a quick buck helping with simple labour. There's an old widow who lives on the edge of town who I end up working for. She mostly lives off support from the community as she's far too old to be doing labour. The money I get from her is honestly negligible considering what Morgan has, it amounts to a single silver, and that's probably because the old woman was generous considering the fact that most farmers make less than that a month, but it's my money that I didn't have to rely on Morgan to get. I'm not totally helpless in this world, I can do something. It's not yet enough for survival, but it's a start.

I have to start planning for eventually being on my own. If I can't get out of this world, I need some sort of skill that can make me money. Hope for the best, plan for the worst. I know Morgan said she'd help me, but it would be rude and lazy to expect her to solve my problems for me.

In the time she spends by herself, Morgan spends a lot of time with the crude figurines she made going over combat scenarios and figuring out how to work with the four of us. From watching her do this on occasion I note that I've been assigned the figurine of a warrior. Not a fighter, not a barbarian, a warrior. I guess that's what I am actually. I have an axe and a bow just like a warrior. Morgan also tends to sit my figurine in the back alongside Noire, or else sometimes I'm absent entirely.

I appreciate that Morgan is keeping me out of the fights when possible, but I worry that it's going to bite us to have three backliners and only Kjelle in the front. Hopefully we won't have to fight at all, but I have a feeling Kjelle is going to drag us into at least one battle. As much as I don't want to get stabbed, I… no, no, never mind. I really don't want to get stabbed. Everyone else in the group is at least a semi-seasoned warrior, and I am not, and I do not intend to be.

Cowardly? Yes. But I never pretended I wasn't. I know when I read stories that go the way my experience has so far, you know, those self-insert/isekai type stories, the main character always ends up walking into a war or taking on a grand quest… well fuck that. War sucks and fighting sucks, and that's because you can fucking die, get crippled, or just get hurt, and I make a point of avoiding pain as much as possible. All you other self-insert nutcases can go around with your magic and enchanted weapons and get nearly killed half a dozen times and be in horrible pain. I'll sit in the back with my crossbow until we have enough people that I don't even have to participate anymore, and hopefully never suffer more than a scratch. I'll help the Shepherds with my vague future sight and never enter a proper battle.

That's the plan anyways.

I wonder if Morgan's battle simulations are based on a war game, or if she's making up results as she goes. It would be fun to learn a war game. That's something I can get on board with. Board games are eternal. I'll learn later though, when we're not mildly conserving money and when I actually have the space in my pack to carry a game (right now I can't keep too much because whenever I piggyback Morgan or Noire they have to carry both our packs).

Without a calendar, time seems to pass very slowly to me. I feel like much more than a month has passed, but it's been only a few weeks. I know because Kjelle stops by the tavern once a week to talk to us. Well, talk with Noire specifically. She still doesn't really like Morgan, and I don't think she trusts me.

With a combination of the work I was doing and using what we hunt to feed ourselves sometimes so we don't have to pay for every meal, we don't break even by any extent, but we save enough money to be worth our while.

I say that like Morgan's fifty plus gold can't support us for years if it needed to.

It's weird to think that one gold is a large amount of money in this world. Most farmers and the people we've come across count their monthly income in copper or maybe silver (and usually silver if they're a blacksmith or some skilled trade, in which case they need to buy food whereas farmer's don't, so their effective income is actually not that much higher if higher at all). Morgan is absurdly rich by comparison. It's not an understatement to say that Morgan probably has more money on her than the entire town combined.

That begs the question how she got so much money to begin with. Morgan obviously doesn't know, and neither do I. She had to come to this world for some reason, so she's probably from a ruined future. Maybe she just amassed it from looting Risen corpses? Maybe she planned ahead for arrival in this world and snagged money from somewhere? It would be easier to do that second thing I imagine because there would be no real use for gold in a ruined world, so it would be easier to get her hands on actual gold because everyone else is concerned about things like food and armor.

There's so much theory crafting I could do about how Morgan got her money, but it's not worthwhile. We'll never know why. Plus, for all I know Morgan was sent here as an agent of Grima and got her memory wiped by chance, and the money was from Grima themself to help her minion get established. There's so many random possibilities that I can't even make an educated guess.

It's a relief when Kjelle is finally done with her work and we get on the road again. I much prefer travelling to doing menial labour.

Chapter Text

As soon as we start travelling it becomes clear our group is effectively split in two pairs: Me and Morgan, and then Noire and Kjelle. Noire and Kjelle aren't exactly close, it's just that Kjelle is less weird to Noire than Morgan and especially me so it's obvious why Noire sticks around Kjelle. It's me and Kjelle that act as the two extremes of the group that never interact. Morgan and Noire will sometimes speak with the other side, but me and Kjelle rarely interact.

Also, Kjelle has her own tent, so now she and Noire share that one and me and Morgan share the one we got.

Kjelle is also just as much of an ass as I expected. She scoffs the first time she sees me give Morgan. Perhaps due to not taking rides as often, Noire can manage the long walks on her own now, which is something Kjelle loudly praises in an obvious jab at Morgan (though much to Noire's consternation, as she doesn't want to be a point of conflict).

Still, despite Kjelle being Kjelle, things don't change all that much. I still sing a lot, me and Morgan still have spontaneous roleplay moments, Noire still watches us from the sidelines with a side-eye and the occasional shake of her head, and Noire still rarely actually speaks to anyone.

The one change that does happen is dedicated training time. Kjelle insists on having it for herself every night, and Morgan agrees that it would be best if all of us made some effort to improve.

Kjelle makes yet another snide remark about us being lazy before, and the rest of us ignore her. Ignoring Kjelle entirely has become very common. I wonder when she'll get the hint and stop talking.

Training sucks just as much as I expected it to. Crossbow practice isn't too bad, but training with my axe is awful.

Some people take satisfaction from the exhaustion and burning muscles after training. I am not one of those people. It's an irritation I'd rather not deal with. Everyone else doesn't seem to mind so much. Kjelle takes (loud) pride in her effort, and Morgan does often give a satisfied nod or smile when she's done training with her sword (she doesn't want to overwork her tome). Noire goes about training with silent focus, practicing not only with her bow but also a dagger. There's a sort of solemn seriousness to Noire's practice. I'm not good enough at reading people to make a guess at why that would be, and I don't feel comfortable asking about it.

Sometimes, very rarely, there is sparring. I usually refuse to participate on the principle that I have no idea what I'm doing (unless Morgan coaxes me into it, generally so she can help me understand the fundamentals of combat, in those cases it's less sparring and more instruction). Kjelle seems to flip-flop between intensely wanting to spar and scoffing that she wouldn't spar with people so weak. She's effortlessly stronger than the rest of us… though I think that's only because Morgan won't use her magic. She doesn't have a training tome (apparently those exist), so any elfire she used would be the real deal.

Incidentally, Morgan has explained how tomes work to me. The best metaphor I can make is that they're like a computer and the mage is the battery and operator. The mage provides the power and works the keys (manipulating the different parts of the book through magic so the spell does and goes where the mage wants it to), and the book pumps out a result from those inputs. Tomes can also "overheat". If you use one too much or put too much power into a spell, you'll degrade the systems within it (the mana will strain the diagrams and spell circles inside) until it eventually stops working. Something else interesting about magic is that if you were an expert you could cast elfire without a tome and have it be mostly the same, but it would take an incredible amount of focus and skill. What tomes do is allow you to use less mana on spells by making spellcasting waste less of your energy via energy efficiency, not power amplification. Tomes don't add any extra power (for the most part. Some expensive high-level tomes do), they just allow you to cast the spell more effectively without the need for five times as much training.

It's like using a calculator versus doing an equation by hand. Same result, less effort.

Combat tomes are designed to be disposable so they can be made cheap for armies to buy in bulk. Other tomes, such as ones for more mundane tasks that don't require lots of power, are designed to hold up for longer and can survive centuries of daily use.

Sorry, back to sparring. Kjelle wins mostly even when she doesn't wear armor. Her fervent training does indeed pay off. Sometimes Morgan can abuse how predictable Kjelle is and win through careful counter-attacks, a feint, or a bait, but more often than not Kjelle takes advantage of her long reach with her spear and wins without taking a hit. Noire doesn't really stand a chance when using her dagger, but she spars anyways to learn from her mistakes.

I spar with Noire once or twice using my axe against her dagger, and she easily beats me. She's fast, accurate, and has quick reflexes. I have none of that, and so despite my superior reach thanks to long arms and a larger weapon, I lose quickly each time.

To spar safely we've crafted wooden weapons. Our rough woodworking skills are more than enough to make crude, if extremely poorly balanced, practice weapons.

Long story short, I hate training and sparring. It sucks and I'm bad at it. It is interesting to watch the sparring matches though. Also, I like the smug look on Morgan's face whenever she does manage to beat Kjelle. It's… cute? Is that the term I'm going with? Sure, cute. That's much less embarrassing than saying hot.

###

"A bit far off the beaten path to be travelling with yer prizes, flat face."

Considering how prevalent the issue seems to be in the worlds of Fire Emblem, bandits, brigands, whatever you want to call them, were an inevitable encounter. Perhaps I should have been expecting this. The first thing I say is not a threat or a warning though. It's a question: "Flat face?"

Noire tugs my sleeve and whispers, "Racial slur. He thinks you're Valmese."

Ah, okay. So apparently my current body looks Valmese. Good to know. "flat face" must be in reference to the small nose and rather unpronounced eye ridge. At least, that's what I think.

Look, I'm not super knowledgeable about the distinguishing features of certain races, so I don't actually know. I'm guessing here. If it's not skin color or epicanthic folds, I really can't identify phenotypic markers nor do I really care to. Maybe the slur is totally inaccurate to the actual distinguishing features of Valm's population's predominant phenotypic traits.

I've never been the target of a slur before, coming from a rather privileged place, so this is a new experience. I'm not sure if I'm shocked or just mildly amused at the cartoonish level of racism here. He's like a bigot in a kid's show to be berated into submission for the obvious message of "Don't be racist", except he also has an axe.

Also, I'm assumed to be in charge by this guy. Probably because I look the oldest, and also because I'm male. Probably, maybe. I'm not going to ask because it doesn't matter, because he's probably going to die. Good to know sexism is alive and well though.

"Every path around here looks beaten. I didn't realize there was a main path." I say as calmly as possible. My heart is actually pounding in my chest, and I'm trying to keep my legs from trembling. "Maybe you could point us in the right direction then?"

I'm aware that Morgan, who is standing next to me, is slowly turning around to study the trees around us, likely looking for where the rest of this man's group is (because you know he wouldn't confront us alone). I'm going to try and stall as long as possible to let Morgan figure out what we need to do.

"Sure I can." The man says with a too-wide grin. "I just need a bit o' compensation for my efforts. I'm a poor man you see."

"Gladly. We can spare some copper." I nod. I pointedly avoid saying "gold". Best to try and conceal our wealth. Maybe if he thinks we're poor he won't waste the effort on us… though I think he's more interested in the girls than our money.

Hey, I can hope.

"I want something other than copper." He says.

Really dragging this out, aren't you? Apparently he has a flare for the dramatic. That's fine with me. More time for Morgan to work. "Well I can do some woodworking if you need help with something. I'm not the most skilled, but-"

"You really don't get it, do you?" He chuckles.

No, I understand exactly what you want, and you're proving what a terrible tactician you are by wasting the element of surprise on banter. "Get what? Money? Yeah, we're not the richest." That's a nonsense answer if I've ever given one, and also untrue. Well, it's true for me, not so much Morgan.

I imagine Kjelle is getting impatient. It's a wonder she hasn't charged at the man already. I want to look over my shoulder at her, but I feel like it's a bad idea to take my eyes off this guy.

"Are you stupid?" The man asks.

"Probably." I nod. Yes, I am. Less so than you, but yes. "Come on Morgan, any time now. He's going to get to the point eventually."

"Come on..." The man growls, dropping his facade. I think he was really enjoying trying to terrorize us until I played dumb and ruined it. "Look, idiot, just give me the girls."

"But why?" I frown, knowing full well why he wants them. "They're mine. It took me a long time to gather them. I don't want to spend time finding more."

If I'm not imagining things I think I hear Morgan muffle a laugh. If she's laughing at me, the situation must not be too bad. Relief washes over me and I relax and settle into whatever this persona is becoming.

"I had to go to Plegia for this one." I say, gesturing to Noire who stiffens in surprise. "Plegia. Do you know how hot that place is? It's awful."

"What the… are you some sort of slave trader?" The bandit asks. He looks genuinely confused now, and I love it.

"I am a collector." I huff, feigning affrontement. "Don't lump me in with my suppliers."

Noire is staring at me. I'm not sure if that's shock, disgust, or amazement on her face. Maybe all three?

"I can't give up my collection so easily!" I say, and straighten my back and hold my head high. "I spent good money on these girls. These cute faces don't come cheap!" I could probably say something more vulgar, but for Noire's sake I won't. She's probably already embarrassed by all this. "If you want them, you'll need to pay quite the high price. I won't give one of them out for simple directions my good sir."

I could probably pull this act off better if I had a pretentious coat or something rather than my brigand furs. If I'd known I would have to put on this persona I would have bought an appropriately pretentious coat.

"And this one!" I gesture to Kjelle. "Do you know how hard it was to find a woman who can wear full metal armor and wield a spear yet still has a nice face? That sort of high quality woman is hard to come by!"

This act is getting more absurd by the minute, and I love it. I imagine Kjelle does not love it, and I think I hear her growl when I call her a "high quality woman". Sorry Kjelle, if Morgan wasn't busy I'd use her. She'd find this fun.

"My good sir, you must ask something reasonable in exchange for directions, or else offer up something equal in exchange." I huff while straightening my coat. This will almost certainly bring an end to the discussion. I've done my part. Hopefully that's enough. "So unless you have something to offer or will take my copper, you'll have to excuse us."

The brigand snarls at me and raises his voice. "Boys! Get-"

He's abruptly cut off by Noire shooting him in the throat. She took the time to ready her bow while I was wrapping up my act.

Apparently seeing their leader shot down isn't enough to deter the rest of the group, because they all come rushing out of the forest in two teams… one of which almost instantly gets annihilated by Morgan's magic. Grouping up against magic doesn't end up well, just like crowding around a grenade wouldn't.

That leaves us with only seven people to deal with, which I'd dare say is easy due to the fact that three out of four of our group actually know what they're doing. Morgan's voice whips out, sharp and audible, and she quickly dishes out orders. "Kjelle, keep them at a distance with your spear, don't rush in! Noire, Nathan, shoot anyone who tries to get around!"

And so we do just that. Kjelle wards off most of the brigands with large swipes of her spear (usually backing up in the process so they can't rush her), while me and Noire (mostly Noire) shoot the two guys who try to go around Kjelle. Morgan then ends the fight by incinerating the five other brigands with another elfire.

The whole fight is maybe ten seconds long starting from when Noire shot the leader. It's impressive what a small group of skilled soldiers can do… or maybe it's just impressive how effective basic training actually is, because I doubt those brigands had any.

I quickly turn away from the corpses. I've done fairly well ignoring the few deaths that have happened so far. It's simple to put them aside when everyone we've come up against are engaged in blatantly immoral acts. Slave traders, bandits… it's easy to put their deaths out of mind. Mostly.

It doesn't make looking at their dead bodies any more fun though.

Noire and Morgan are quick to loot the bodies, pulling out money pouches, weapons, and trinkets. Kjelle less so, but this is probably the first time she doesn't take issue with something we do. She nods approvingly at the evidence of our efficiency, even giving an approving look to Noire and a calculated but not scornful glance at Morgan. There might even be a bit of respect in that look.

And then she turns to me. Her expression turns to… something. Something critical. "Why do you look so ill? Don't tell me you don't think they should have died."

Well, there is always the chance that some of them could have been talked down. The leader did say that they were pretty poor. It doesn't excuse them by any means, but… "Well, there's always some grey area, but no, they probably got what was coming to them."

"Don't be ridiculous. They were would-be rapists, they didn't even try to hide the fact." Kjelle says bluntly. "There's no "grey area" to speak of."

"In that sense, sure." I agree. "I'm not arguing that they were in the wrong here. There's no two ways about it. The grey area lies in their situation more than anything. They were poor, and there's a good chance their situation pushed them towards banditry…"

"That doesn't justify anything."

"No." I agree. "It doesn't. It does explain why it happened though."

"Why should we care about that?" Kjelle huffs. "They tried to do something terrible, so we killed them. Simple."

"Simple if we only care about the present and not the issues surrounding the situation." I say. "Which, at the moment, is what we're doing I suppose."

"Then why bring up the greater scope at all?"

"Habit." I mutter. "Don't like seeing people brush over the greater scope to justify their actions. Far too common where I come from."

"That happens?"

"All the time." I nod. "I've seen a lot of news about people who are in dire straits, desperate because they don't have the resources to legally deal with certain problems, treated as evil by authorities because they were doing something wrong at the time with no consideration given as to why they were doing it. In hindsight it doesn't really apply here so much, so… my bad."

Kjelle's mouth purses. It's not a frown, but it's not not something positive either. "Look, we're not councilmen here. We have issues to deal with now. We're soldiers. Let the council sort that big picture stuff."

"That's the exact mindset I'm taking issue with." I say. "You can justify some really dubious actions with that logic."

"Ugh…" Kjelle's face contorts into an annoyed snarl. "So what? You'd have me engage in a debate with those bandits instead?"

I shake my head. "No, of course not. I'd just have you be aware of the greater scope so you can use your logic when situations less clear cut do happen."

"Wow, thanks for bestowing your otherworldly knowledge upon me, teacher." She says with obvious disdain.

Okay, yes, I came across as a bit preachy, but I'd hope she sees I have a point. Hmm… I am assuming I'm right here, I'd like to think for a good reason, but I am making an assumption. That said: "Mock me if you want, but I'd like to think I have a decent point. Unless you're taking issue with my logic, in which case I'll happily try to explain it-"

"No, please don't." Kjelle growls. "Look, fine, we both agree the bandits needed to die, right."

"Yes…"

"So let's stop there."

I think stopping there is fundamentally missing the point I was trying to make, but Kjelle clearly doesn't want to listen so there's no point pushing the issue. "Fine."

"Next issue then. You looked ill. Why?"

I don't see how this is an issue, but… "Well I'm not exactly fond of seeing people die, or looking at their corpses."

"Not much of a soldier then, are you? Are you green?"

"Well I'm not a soldier at all." I say. "Are you just here to be an ass? If that's the case, you can leave."

Kjelle stands firm. "You're not a warrior?"

"No." Did I never tell her that? Wait, why should I have to tell her that? Why is this important?

"Ugh." Kjelle groans. She rubs her forehead. "Why are you even coming along then?"

What sort of question is that? "Because all of you are the only people I recognize and somewhat trust in a world where I am woefully under-equipped to survive? I thought we already established this."

"You did in the sense that you said you never planned on being here and were clinging to Morgan's goodwill to survive out of selfishness."

"Well yeah, that's the same thing as what I just said."

"No, it's not. You said you trusted us." Kjelle says firmly.

"Well yeah. I- uh, did I ever explain that you guys are from a game in my world?"

Kjelle crosses her arms. "Not to me."

Considering we've been at odds, I guess I never got around to explaining that to her. No surprise there. I'm not going to explain something personal to someone I don't like. That's basically a free ticket to being mocked, and I do not think Kjelle is the sort of person not to capitalize on that.

"Well long story short you guys are from a game in my world, specifically you're part of the protagonist group and eventually join the Shepherds so I know I can generally trust you to do the right thing. I know enough about you all that I can be reasonably sure you won't kill me or leave me to die." I try to explain. "That's what I meant by clinging to Morgan's goodwill. I know she's reasonably heroic enough to put up with me and not cast me aside to die out of irritation. All of you are like that… probably."

"So you're grasping at straws and preying on our goodwill."

"Absolutely."

"That's kinda pathetic."

"Yep."

"You're shameless."

"Yep again." I say. "Was there a point to this conversation…?"

"Aaaand I think that's a good time to get moving again, don't you?" Morgan says with exaggerated cheerfulness and grabs my arm and pulls me away.

"We're not done." Kjelle replies firmly. "Give us a moment Morgan."

Morgan narrows her eyes. "If you're just going to insult him and bicker, then no, in that case we're going to leave."

"I- fuck." Kjelle grits her teeth and stomps a foot with hands clenched. "I'm not. Look, I keep getting off track. Just let me say my bit."

Morgan looks at me. "Your call. This involves you."

"I'll hear her out." I say reluctantly. I feel obliged to. If I talk about always seeing the bigger picture, I have to listen to all sides. That's how you get to see the bigger picture.

It also occurs to me that saying "hear her out" makes it sound like I'm assuming I'm some sort of higher authority… or maybe I'm reading too much into it and arbitrarily second-guessing my own words.

Morgan reluctantly stands back (alongside a very uncomfortable Noire who is doing her best to ignore this whole situation) and watches from a distance with her arms crossed. Kjelle obviously knows she's going to be intensely scrutinized and judged, and takes a moment to compose herself.

I've never wanted to be out of a social situation more than this moment.

"Look." Kjelle says slowly. "I want to be a knight. I'm trying to live by knightly ideals. That means never backing down from evil, being strong, and being disciplined. You can't do that if you're not absolutely sure you're doing the right thing at all times. An indecisive knight is a dead knight."

I nod silently, showing that I understand. I don't agree necessarily, but I understand the viewpoint.

"To me, you look… looked like basically the worst case scenario." Kjelle explains. "Someone needy, weak, and manipulative who was attaching themself to a group of warriors in an attempt to make themself look better."

Morgan is still listening to this, and she is very unsubtle in how she's now glowering at Kjelle.

"And you're still some of those things as far as I can tell." Kjelle says. "Most of them, except the last part. That's why I care whether you're a warrior or not. If you pretended you were, then you were exactly as bad as I assumed you were. You didn't pretend to be what you weren't, even if you are disappointing in my eyes."

Okay, that's fair enough.

"I- gah, no, that's not right." Kjelle growls. "You're… you're…"

"Uncomfortable to see?"

"Yeah."

"Because I'm weak and kinda useless and yet you feel obliged to let me tag along despite that because you know I need all of you?"

"Close." Kjelle agrees reluctantly. "I don't like that you don't seem to care that you're useless and weak."

Okay, now that is a fair criticism. For what I know about Kjelle and her sort-of strength obsession; it makes total sense she'd hate my whiny-but-indifferent attitude towards my situation that I don't seem to be doing anything about. That's mostly because I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing in this world, but Kjelle doesn't know that.

"So that's my gripe." Kjelle says. "I don't like how you conduct yourself, and your ideals are totally counter to what I'm trying to be."

"Right." I say slowly. I actually feel a lot more comfortable now with her grievances out in the open. "That's all fair enough I suppose. I don't particularly want to be a warrior, so I'll definitely agree that I don't care that I'm weak. My uselessness is something I want to deal with, it's just a matter of me figuring out how at the moment. I can't say I agree with your ideals either. To me, you look somewhere between a patronizing protector, might-makes-right well-intentioned extremist, and someone with blind faith in law and the enforcers of the law. Basically I think you have good intentions, but are blind to the consequences and implications of your intentions as they are currently."

Yes, I just phrased my opinion of Kjelle almost entirely in terms of tropes. That's the simplest way I can think of to phrase my thoughts.

"So that's why you insisted on talking about grey area." Kjelle mutters. "You think I'm stupid."

"Pretty much." I admit bluntly. It feels weird to not dance around these almost-insults and just say them. "Well, maybe the term "uncritical" is more accurate. Stupid is a bit harsh."

"Don't try to be polite." Kjelle grumbles. "You're making me feel like an ass."

"Sorry?"

"Don't apologize either. That's just as bad."

"Uh…"

"Look, this is genuinely great and all." Morgan interrupts. "But we can talk while marching, right?"

"Yeah, fine." Kjelle says. I nod silently.

So… I guess that means me and Kjelle aren't enemies anymore? We're not friends, but we're not enemies. I can live with that.

###

I was expecting my talk with Kjelle to be the last somewhat serious talk of the day. I was wrong.

It doesn't start off like you'd expect a mildly serious talk to start. Me and Morgan have just finished starting up the fire, Kjelle is doing some extra training a short distance away, and Noire is off hunting and should be back soon (it's almost sundown). When the fire isn't in imminent danger of flickering out I sit back against a log to watch it, and Morgan quickly drops into my lap only a moment later.

It's odd how normal this has become. A few months back and this sort of position would be nerve-wracking (and it still sparks a bit of nervousness for the first few moments now), but now it's normal-ish.

There's something very comforting about this position. Maybe it's that Morgan is small, warm, and huggable, or maybe it's the more base "cute girl physical contact" part of my subconscious. Or… you know what? This isn't a relevant train of thought. I don't need to dissect why I find this comfortable. It just is.

So, serious talk. Morgan sits down in my lap, making herself comfortable as she usually does. I loosely hug her as I usually do when she takes this position. That's all fine. Then Morgan actually speaks.

"Nathan." Her voice is calm. At this point I don't expect anything serious. Maybe it's a question about a song, or maybe I used an unfamiliar word at some point during the day. That's usually what prompts her questions. If I was more acute, which I am not, maybe I could have detected that she was keeping inflection out of her voice.

"Hmm?" I rest my chin on her head.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes." I say. I glance down. She's looking up at me. Staring in fact. "Are you?"

"Yes." She says firmly. Her eyes flick to mine, to my mouth, to my forehead, then back. Is she looking for something? "Nathan."

"Yes?"

"Are you lying to me?" Her tone is not accusing. It's more concerned than anything.

"No." I blink. "Why…?"

"Well we did get ambushed today, and you got a slur thrown at you, and had a sort-of fight with Kjelle." Morgan recounts. "So I'd normally say that would be a pretty bad day."

"So were you lying when you said you were fine then? You got ambushed, and watched a sort-of fight between party members, and also those bandits clearly wanted certain unsavory things of you. That sounds like a pretty bad day too."

"I suppose it does." Morgan admits. "I was more concerned about the fact that you don't exactly have thick skin and you're not comfortable with fighting. Unlike me."

"Unlike you?"

"Yes." She says simply. "Dealing with the bandits felt like doing my job. I was confident, comfortable even, like I was in my element. Their threats were just background noise; another day on the job. Kinda weird now that I think about it."

"Maybe it's because you probably had experience with all this before you lost your memories."

"Maybe." Morgan nods. "And I think we both know I have thick skin." Well, I can't argue there. I was thinking more about the fighting anyways. "Also, don't change the subject."

"Well there's not much to say about it." I mumble. "We got ambushed. That sucked, but you guys murdered their asses pretty hard, and hearing you laugh at my act really took the feeling of danger out of the situation. If you were laughing I figured the situation was fine. As for the slur… well it didn't really have an impact. I've never dealt with slurs directed at me before, so it was more of a curiosity than some painful instance of racism. Also, "flat face" sounds stupid, and I knew the guy was an asshole who was totally going to die, so it was hard to take it seriously."

"Ah." Morgan relaxes. "Good then."

"When I have a…" I pause. I was going to say girlfriend, but I'm not sure that's the point we're at. Fuck if I know what point we are at, but I'm not going to be presumptuous. Better safe than sorry. Gotta find something else to say. "...group of teammates involving a sniper, a girl who could probably deadlift a tree, and someone who can throw fire, I'm less inclined to be worried about untrained thugs. It's not like we were facing those slavers who actually looked like they might know what they were doing. These were bandits. I wouldn't be surprised if half of them had never actually had to fight someone before."

"That's basically what I concluded about them while watching." Morgan nods. "Almost none of them were holding their weapons properly."

"Uh… I just assumed they didn't have experience because they didn't attack us instantly and lost the element of surprise."

"Well they were hoping to intimidate rather than fight, but he did talk way longer than he needed to." Morgan nods.

"I suppose you didn't get to see how disappointed he was that I wasn't acting scared."

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah. I started playing dumb to stall for time and he went from smug to annoyed when I dodged his implications several times. It was kinda funny actually."

"Now I wish I was watching rather than just listening." Morgan laughs. "And how did he react to your whole collector act?"

"He was weirded out." I shrug. "Looked at me like I was crazy. Standard stuff."

Morgan makes a "tsk" noise with her mouth. "He clearly didn't appreciate the art of your act."

"Obviously. He made no note of the haughty posture I adopted, or how I held my head high. Why, he didn't even show interest in my collection! Rude really." I smile.

"You didn't even show me off." Morgan huffs. She crosses her arms, also smiling. "I'm offended, really. You praised Noire and Kjelle, but not me? Your girlfriend? Really now."

Oh, so that is the term we're using. Cool. "I can't just show the gem of my collection to anyone. A visitor has to earn the privilege to gaze upon certain pieces."

"Is that how it is?"

"Indeed." I say, trying to make my voice smooth and smug. To add to the act, I stroke her hair kinda like you'd expect a villain to stroke the head of a pet. "Do not pout my dear, he was not worthy. Your task was far more important. Only the best visitors for the best of my collection."

"Of course, of course." Morgan nods. She takes a second, then says. "You know, it just occurred to me this joke is a bit messed up."

"Well yeah, that was sort of the point, wasn't it?" I say. "Dark comedy. We're literally making the joke that I'm a creepy pervert who collects young girls. It's funny because it's messed up but also untrue."

"I guess I just never gave it much thought." Morgan shrugs.

"Having second thoughts?"

She shakes her head. "Nah. Please, keep up the act. I do enjoy being the most important part of the collection if I keep getting compliments."

"Oh I see, you just want the compliments." I smirk. "Doesn't matter how you get it."

"Guilty as charged." Morgan grins. She reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck. "So please, don't hold back."

Kjelle's voice cuts into our talk. "Can you two not? There are other people here you know."

Morgan raises her voice, but adopts our usual flat "I'm making a joke" tone. "Oh yes, Nathan, don't stop." She tilts her head to expose her neck, and splays out her limbs in an exaggeratedly suggestive manner.

"My." I say in a similarly flat and emotionless tone. "What a tasty sight." I snake a hand into her coat (not her shirt, he coat) and stroke her leg with the other while lowering my face so my nose strokes her neck. (Morgan actually shivers when I do that. Not sure how I should react, so I say nothing).

Kjelle sighs deeply and doesn't comment. After a moment, me and Morgan drop our act and return to a more normal position. When we do that, Kjelle speaks. "Morgan."

"What's up?"

"Do you have any idea how long it will take to get to Ylisstol from here?"

"Not really." Morgan admits. "It's not like we have a map. Finding you was our rough halfway point for getting through Ferox."

"And we might want to consider picking up Nah on our way down through Ylisse." I add. "Granted, that would mean finding passage to the island her paralogue is located on and moving to the east coast of Ylisse rather than just going down the center, but it's something we can consider."

"Trying to collect all the future kids?" Morgan jokes.

"Well kinda." I shrug. "We have no way of knowing if the Shepherds will actually find them, and all the future kids get into dangerous and possibly fatal situations if the game is correct."

"But the issue with that is that you don't know how well your knowledge actually lines up, right?"

"Right."

"I would vote for finding Nah." Kjelle says. "If we have the knowledge to find her, and there is even the slightest chance of danger to her, we should consider ourselves obliged to find her. Whether she ends up being in danger or not, we can't take that risk."

"Yeah, that's a fair point." I agree. "Morgan?"

"Makes sense." She shrugs. "As long as we have the money for it, which we should. That said, if we could find the Shepherds we could get their help. We'd have more strength to deal with problems that do arise."

"It would take longer in the case of Nah." I remind her. "For everyone else, we're going to Ylisstol first anyways. Laurent's paralogue is below Ylisstol, the others are in the far reaches of Plegia or on the other continent. We'd be stopping by Ylisse before going to them anyways. Nah is the only one left where we have a logical reason to go to her first rather than Ylisstol."

"Well put." Kjelle agrees.

Noire returns at this moment. She steps out of the forest carrying a whole deer over her shoulders. "I caught something…"

"So we can see." Kjelle says. "You're just in time to offer an opinion. We're deciding if we should detour to get Nah before we go to Ylisstol."

"Ah…" Noire mumbles. She lays the deer on a log. "Um… I don't mind either way…"

Well, I can't say that's a surprising answer, but I should probably offer her the facts. "It will delay us going to Ylisstol. We're going to have to go all the way to the east coast and across the water. You're okay with that?"

"Yes." Noire nods. "It's fine."

I suppose we're going after Nah then. Cool.

Noire then skins, guts, and cooks the deer, and we eat; and I'm here to inform you that deer tastes really… generic.

###

"Hey Nathan."

"Yeah?"

"I never asked, but… what do you look like?"

"What?"

"This isn't your body, right?" She taps my arm. "So what do you actually look like?"

"Well…" I squint as I remember. "Skinny, boney, pale, long dark brown unkempt hair that goes to the waist, blue eyes, not tall, scrawny… I don't know how to describe appearances in more nuance."

"Huh." Morgan blinks. "That's… hmm."

"You were expecting something else."

"Well yeah. I guess I thought you'd be tall."

"Because I'm tall right now?"

"Yeah." Morgan says quietly. I think she just remembered she can't use my current body as any sort of indicator of what I actually look like. "You said shorter than average? How short?"

"I dunno." I shrug helplessly. "I don't remember my exact height, I just know I was shorter than most other adult men I was around. Not by any huge margin, just by a bit."

"Taller than me?"

"Probably." I nod.

"How about Kjelle?"

"I think so."

"Noire?"

"Probably about the same height as Noire." I guess. I'm not really sure. I never bothered to keep track of how tall I was. My current perspective is at least a head taller than I used to be though. I can tell just by looking at the ground. "Maybe a bit taller? I think I was about average height back home. It's just that there were a lot of tall people in my classes."

"What did your voice sound like?"

"I don't know how to describe that." I shrug. "Not this deep, that's for sure."

"Would you be able to describe what race you are?"

"Not really. I doubt the term "caucasian" exists here." I say. "Not Valmese, not Chon'sinese, not Feroxi." Technically just not dark skinned Feroxi, because Olivia is Feroxi too but she looks totally different. I can't tell any substantial differences between Plegian, Ylissian, and light Feroxi.

"Would you be able to identify your own race if you saw someone who was a part of it?"

"Maybe within a certain margin I could." I muse. "But for the most part no. For example you, Noire, and Kjelle all fall into that margin."

"Hmm…" Morgan frowns.

"What's wrong? Why so insistent?"

"I just want to know. It's weird to think what I'm seeing is not who you consider yourself to be." Morgan says. "I want to know how you see yourself."

I have the best girlfriend apparently. "I'm sure there's a spell or something that could be used to show you. A mental projection thing."

"Yeah." Morgan still sounds disappointed.

I abruptly pull her into a hug (seeing as we're walking at the moment, that also involves picking her up). "You're the best."

"Hell yeah I am." She agrees. "Uh… why in this case?"

"Because I'm too emotional." I mumble.

"Hey, if this is emotional, please continue." Morgan says cheerfully.

"Please don't." Kjelle grumbles from beside us.

"Killjoy." Morgan huffs.

"Just get a room or something." Kjelle groans. "Just don't do this shit in front of me."

"You're just jealous." Morgan taunts.

"Absolutely not." Kjelle says instantly.

"You just want a hug too, don't you?"

"No, I don't."

"So cold."

"Or you're just shameless."

"Can confirm." Morgan grins. "No shame here!"

"I know." Kjelle replies tiredly. "You're not exactly subtle."

###

I know me and Kjelle aren't exactly hostile to each other any more, but it still feels weird to try and talk to her.

There's also the problem that I'm not quite sure what to ask her. I want to know who her father is, and if she knows the parentage of the other kids, but asking that just makes it seem like I'm being nosy for no reason (which I sort of am), but I also just want to know more about Ylisse before we get there. The vague tidbits I got from the game don't exactly tell me how the country is like. Playing the game is like getting a pamphlet about the countries involved. It's barely anything.

There's so much I want to know that I don't know where to start, and I'm sure to miss something. Maybe I should just focus on the important information. Parentage is the most important. If I can narrow down the pairings I might be able to figure out who Morgan's mother is, and Morgan would love to know that.

"Are you just going to stare, or are you actually going to say something?" Kjelle asks. She's not looking at me, I wonder how she knew I was staring.

Morgan is bathing at the moment, and Noire is practicing archery. Kjelle is practicing with her spear while I tend the fire.

"Well yeah. I was just wondering how to start." I say. "Because I don't know how to ask this question without sounding weird."

"Then just say it. Don't dance around." Kjelle grunts. She strikes the tree with her wooden lance, still not looking at me.

"Right, uh… I want to know who married who among the Shepherds."

Kjelle pauses, then looks at me with a frown. "Why the fuck would you want to know that?"

"For Morgan." I say in a hurry. "She's an amnesiac, right? She doesn't know who her mother is, only her father. So if I can find out the pairings among the Shepherds I can use my knowledge of the game to narrow down who Morgan's mother might be."

"Well I suppose that makes sense." Kjelle grumbles. "It's still so weird that there's a game about us…"

I nod silently, waiting for Kjelle to start explaining.

"Ugh, I'm not the person you should be asking though." Kjelle sighs. "I'll tell you what I know, but I don't know too much."

"Anything helps."

"Well… okay. My parents are Sully and Stahl." Kjelle says. "Noire's are Gaius and Tharja. The royal family is Exalt Chrom and Queen Maribelle, with Princess Lucina and Prince Brady being the royal children."

Chrom and Maribelle? That's a pairing I never see. Then again, I suppose the actual world of Awakening isn't going to correspond to the preferences of a fandom in an entirely different world.

"Severa's parents are Sir Frederick and Wing Commander Cordelia." Kjelle continues. "Princess Lissa is married to Sir Vaike, and their child is Prince Owain. The last I can tell you is Cynthia, who's parents are Commander Sumia and Father Libra."

"Right." I don't think Sumia and Libra are a pairing you can do in the game, which is a bit worrying. Still, I compile all that information in my head. As mothers I don't have to consider Nowi, Tiki, or Panne due to the obvious physical traits they would pass down (even if that doesn't happen in-game, but I think I can safely assume that would happen here) and the same goes for Lissa and passing down the Brand of the Exalt. I'm ignoring second-generation units as potential mothers due to it being simply unlikely in my eyes. Tharja, Sully, Maribelle, Cordelia, and Sumia are now out of the running. "So that leaves Miriel, Cherche, Olivia, Anna, Flavia and Say'ri…" It could also be Aversa I suppose, but that strikes me as exceedingly unlikely. Emmeryn isn't likely due to passing the Brand as well. "That would be four likely possibilities: Miriel, Cherche, Olivia, and Anna. Taking into account that Morgan doesn't have dark skin like Flavia, or epicanthic folds like Say'ri."

You know, four possibilities assuming my methodology isn't totally wrong to begin with.

"Epi-what folds?"

"Uh… squinty eyes." I think that's a rude way of putting it, but I want to make sure Kjelle knows what I mean.

"Ah." She nods. "But that doesn't give you the answer you want."

"No." I affirm. "But it narrows it down a lot more, which is still useful."

"Won't this be irrelevant once we find the Shepherds and just ask?"

"Assuming Robin is already married, yes, it would be irrelevant. If he's not, then the deduction is still useful. The deduction is also useful if we figure out before we find the Shepherds, because it would just be nice to tell Morgan about her mother."

"You've thought this through." Kjelle sounds surprised.

"As much as I can. There's still the chance that I'm totally wrong. After all, I'm assuming this world roughly follows the rules of the game." I explain. "Maybe Robin married someone that doesn't exist in the game. Maybe he's gay. Maybe Morgan is adopted. Hell if I know for sure. Libra and Sumia isn't a pairing you can do in the game, so I have no idea if Robin will deviate even further."

"Right…"

"What? You sound cautious."

"Your interest in the personal lives of the Shepherds is still creepy, and the fact that you can even make these sorts of deductions is doubly so." Kjelle says bluntly.

"Well excuse me." I grumble. I understand why she's saying that, but come on, at least I have a good reason this time. "Thanks for the info though."

That'll be something I can tell Morgan later, but I really wish I could tell her exactly who her mother is likely to be rather than a few options. That's like saying a cake is one of four things rather than probably one thing. I'd rather know it's probably chocolate than maybe chocolate or strawberry or vanilla or butterscotch. At that point the "maybe" is pointless because there are so many options and you might as well just say you don't know.

Kjelle seems to get this impression too. "Not really enough, is it?"

"No." I admit.

"Well then… hey Noire!" Kjelle suddenly shouts. She then looks at me. "What do you still need to know?"

"At least three of four options left." I say. I can make a deduction from there. "Basically Inigo, Gerome, and Laurent's fathers, or if Anna was involved with anyone."

"Do you remember who Gerome, Laurent, or Inigo's fathers were?"

"Um…" Noire pauses her training. "I think Gerome's was… Sir Donnel. I never talked with Inigo much. Laurent's father is Duke Virion. He taught me to shoot."

Okay, okay! So, that leaves just Anna or Olivia. "Do you know Anna?" I ask eagerly.

"Which one…?"

"There should have been one that joined the Shepherds."

"I don't know."

That's a shame, but two options is much better. I have a stupid excited grin on my face and Kjelle is shaking her head at me. Screw you Kjelle, I'm happy. You can be a killjoy some other time.

Morgan returns with wet hair and a thoughtfully scrunched-up face. Her eyes meet mine, and noting my excitement a smile creeps onto her face as well. She doesn't even know why I'm excited, but she's still happy about it.

As if I didn't deserve Morgan more than I already don't.

"What's up?" She asks quickly. "What happened? Did we find something? The Shepherds? Another kid? Free food!?"

"No, no, and no." I smile back. "Nothing so drastic."

"Did we find… gold?"

"No."

"A cool weapon?"

"Still no."

"A rare animal."

"No."

"A new girl for your collection?"

"Unfortunately, no." I sigh dramatically. "Something much more simple."

"C'mon, tell me!"

"I've managed to narrow down your mother to two possibilities." I say. "Probably, assuming my logic is sound."

Morgan stands up straight with her eyes wide. "Really?"

"Yeah. Kjelle and Noire knew enough for me to make some more conclusions." I say. "It's either Anna or Olivia."

"Cool!" Morgan gasps. "Uh… who are those?"

Right, of course those names are going to mean nothing to her. "Anna is a merchant. She has dozens of identical sisters. All of them have red hair and are quite money-obsessed. Olivia is a dancer, and was employed by Khan Basilio. If she's your mother, that will also mean you have a brother."

"Woah… will he know who I am?"

"Based on the game, yes." I say cautiously. "That said, his knowledge of you may not line up so well considering you're likely from a different future world than everyone else. That's speculation on my part…"

"But logically that makes sense." Morgan says. "Right, okay… woah… I might have a brother… what's he like?"

"Inigo is a flirt. A huge flirt." I say. I have the option here to tell Morgan the reason why inigo is a flirt, but I think that falls into the territory of personal information that I shouldn't be giving out without his permission considering he usually hides that information. "And he gets turned down constantly."

"That's going to be so much fun…" Morgan smirks.

"Looking forward to seeing him failing?"

"Yep. Nothing is funnier than seeing someone who thinks they're cool failing miserably." She says cheerfully.

"You're going to be such a nice and supportive sister, aren't you?" I say sarcastically.

"Oh you know I am." Morgan says with a somewhat evil grin. "Even if I'm not his sister, I'm going to have a lot of fun with him."

I don't envy you Inigo. Also, my money is on Olivia being Morgan's mother (if only because Anna strikes me as a bit too self-centered to get married). Then again, my whole time spent in Awakening's world has been one big lesson in "Don't judge a person by their video game representation", so maybe I shouldn't cut Anna out of the running.

Either way, narrowing it down to two options isn't bad. Unfortunately it will be a while before we can get confirmation on which one is the right one (or if I'm totally off) either from Nah knowing or from finding Robin and the Shepherds.

My non-existent money is still on Olivia though.

###

"Is this foreign…?" I ask quietly. I gesture subtly to the simple red book on the merchant's display stand.

We found another moderately sized town on our way across Ferox. As per usual when we find one of these places, me and Morgan check out any local stores and passing merchants to see if there's anything of interest. Through these trips Morgan has accumulated a pouch full of random trinkets including: a pair of deer bone dice, a set of ten sewing needles (no thread), a stone charm that looks like a dragon (non-magical), a wooden hair clip, deer bone tweezers, two-dozen small wooden marbles, a deer bone knife hilt with an ornate design carved into it (with no blade), and a single dented horseshoe.

I don't think she'll find a use for half of those things. They were all cheap though, costing only a copper or two a piece because most of them were items the shop or merchant was trying to get rid of (so basically bargain bin stuff).

Anyhow, the book. It's just a red book. It's small, looks cheap, has no cover art (as you'd expect from a medieval book I suppose), and is scuffed and scratched all over. All that remains is (what I presume is) a title that was actually stitched into the cover in brown thread.

"Hmm?" Morgan peeks at it. "No, that's standard Arcanean."

"What we're speaking right now?"

"Yes."

"Fuck."

"What?"

"I can't read it."

"Well-" Morgan starts to say something, pauses, then mutters. "Oh… You know how to read and write in your world I presume?"

"Yep."

"So our written language is different."

I sigh in disappointment. Somehow this revelation kinda stings. I like reading, and now I can't even do that. "Yep."

Morgan nods solemnly and leans against me. "I'll teach you at some point."

"Thanks." I mumble sadly.

"Incidentally, I think it's erotica judging by the title."

"You're joking."

"No, I'm really not." She grins. "I was curious there for a second if you were making some sort of joke."

"No way I would have had the guts to do that." I say. I honestly can't see myself doing that.

"I would have."

"Yeah, I know."

"Maybe I still will."

"I wouldn't be surprised."

"I can totally use this to tease Inigo when we meet him." Morgan muses. "Like giving it to him as a gift to numb the sting of rejection."

Giving him erotica to help him cope with not getting a date? Wow. "You're terrible; and lewd." And she's already considering ways to mess with Inigo too. "Why don't you just say to his face that you think he's a sad loser who'll never actually get laid? I'm sure that'd hurt less."

"But it would also be less funny." She grins.

"Yeah… yeah it would." I admit.

Morgan ends up buying the book.

###

"Checkmate!"

"Well I guess I shouldn't be surprised…" I sigh.

"This game really is incredible though." Morgan says. "I can see why it was so popular in your world. There's so much to it despite the simple appearance."

"Rub in your tactical genius why don't you?" I sigh. "Well played."

"I do not rub it in…"

"Well yeah-"

"You do that well enough for me on your own."

"And you love every second of it, don't you?"

"Hell yeah I do." Morgan smirks.

"At least it's simple to keep you happy." I tease.

Morgan gasps and puts an sarcastically offended hand on her chest. "Are you calling me easy?"

"Yes."

She shrugs. "Eh, whatever. Means I'm happy all the time then."

"Are you?"

"What?"

"Happy all the time. Are you?"

"Well not literally all the time. Being an amnesiac is a bit of a downer sometimes." Morgan muses. "But considering the situation, honestly I'm not doing too bad." A grin crosses her face and she leans forward while saying "I'm happy with you if that's what you're asking."

"Good." I mumble, probably blushing fiercely. That's not what I meant, but it's nice to hear. I remember Morgan's endings saying she didn't seem to miss her memory but there's no telling how true to life that is at the moment. That's why I asked. "Incidentally, I never asked, but what do you remember? You know about your father right?"

"More like the only memories I have involve my father." Morgan admits. "I don't "know about him" per say."

"I see…" I nod. "So what are these memories? How great is your dad?"

"He's the best!" Morgan says eagerly. "He taught me tactics! I remember we used to play this board game with figurines. I can't remember what it was called, but there were Pegasus Knights and Wyverns and knights and everything! They were so detailed, and Father painted all of them himself!"

So what I'm hearing is that Robin is a wargamer. That's very fitting and kinda cool. I wonder what the game is like...

"I also remember him helping me with sword fighting and learning to use magic. He actually taught me thunder magic first. I guess I must have decided I liked fire more at some point…" Morgan muses. "Oh, and he took me to see a play at some point. I can remember walking into a theater with him."

I nod silently, not wanting to interrupt.

"He gave me this coat for one of my birthdays." She recalls, and pats her coat. "It's a copy of his original one. He said "any good tactician has to have a good coat!""

Wise words. Probably. Either that or he's a coat fanatic.

"Oh, and he always told me how awesome I was." Morgan says smugly, as if that's different from any other doting father. "Well, strictly speaking he said cute, but he'd probably think that I'm awesome now."

"Now that you're so much taller?" I ask cheekily.

She immediately scowls at me. "Screw you. I haven't hit my growth spurt yet."

I rest my chin on my fist, smirking. "Uh-huh."

"Just you wait. I'll end up being taller than you!" She grumbles.

"Considering you don't even come up to my collarbone, that's quite a bit of height to make up."

Morgan huffs. "Fine, taller than your real body."

"Okay, that's more reasonable… ignoring the fact that you won't get any taller."

"I will. Just you wait! I'm a late bloomer."

"Six years late? Sure." I mean, there are a few conditions that could explain why she looks the way she does if indeed she actually hasn't hit puberty for some reason, but I'm guessing she's done growing

"I am!"

"Sure." I pat her head patronizingly. "In the meantime, rest assured your father will still think you're cute."

"Or maybe he'll think I'm mature and awesome." Morgan huffs. "Unlike you."

"I think you're both of those things… just not physically." I continue to tease. "Don't worry, you're still adorable. Even when you pout at me."

"You're lucky I like you." Morgan grumbles without any real anger in her voice.

"I don't often forget." I say while fighting the embarrassment of saying such a thing with a straight face.

Apparently my poker face is terrible, because Morgan's scowl turns into a grin. "Have I ever told you that you're cute sometimes?"

"No." I mutter, probably blushing horribly. "And I disagree."

"Well too bad, it's not your choice!" Morgan says cheerfully. "I'm going to have to remember this so I can bring it up again! You're so red!"

"Then I'm going to keep making fun of your height." I threaten petulantly.

"Come on, that's not an even exchange!" Morgan complains. "I'm giving you a compliment and you threaten to make fun of me?"

"Your 'compliment' is making fun of me too." I grumble.

"Doesn't mean it's not a compliment." Morgan says. "And I meant that genuinely! Just because you're embarrassed doesn't mean I'm making fun of you! Come on, you compliment me all the time but I can't compliment you? No fair!"

"That is not the issue here." I mutter. I start cleaning up the chess set.

"Yes it is!" Morgan huffs. "Is this just because you're shy? It's totally because you're shy."

I say nothing and put away the chess set in my pack.

"You're just going to have to get used to it then." Morgan declares.

"You're terrible." I complain. At least she's in a good mood though. The whole point of me asking about her father was to put her in a good mood after accidentally bringing the conversation to the subject of her amnesia. I also got to learn about Robin too, so that's a bonus. Mission accomplished I suppose?

"Terribly good looking? Or maybe terribly smart?"

"Those too." I really do stroke her ego way too much. Ah whatever, she likes it. "Just not tall."

"Whatever you say, cutie." She retorts smugly.

Okay, maybe I will have to stop making fun of her height if that's how she's going to respond…

Chapter Text

Waking up is always interesting, if only because I never know where I've rolled to overnight. More often than not I've rolled towards the fire, probably due to my body trying to find heat in the somewhat cold environment we're in.

It may be spring, but we're in Ferox. It's still cold, and I'm a small, thin, helpless genius who doesn't have enough body mass to keep herself warm through a cold night. Is it any wonder I roll towards the fire? So most mornings I wake up with my face pressed up against Nathan's bedroll because he sleeps between me and the fire, and sometimes I wake up literally on top of him if I've rolled more than usual. It's rare that I actually make it beyond him which is probably a good thing or I'd end up with another burn.

Nathan has never let me live that down by the way. It happened once, and he treats it like if he doesn't put something between me and the fire I'm going to roast myself alive. I appreciate the concern, but seriously, he didn't need to put rocks and chairs in my path…

Ah well. It's not like I mind his somewhat paranoid level of concern. It's nice to have someone worry over me, even if it's for an unnecessary reason.

I've also noticed that if Nathan wakes up before me (which is rare, he's a late sleeper, though not as much as Noire) I'll wake up to find him watching me. Nathan will have this look of subdued curiosity on his face, sometimes he'll actually be leaning over me, and when he notices I'm awake he'll perk up and greet me, usually sounding a bit rushed or excited.

I don't think you know how good it feels to wake up to find there's someone who's excited to see you awake. No caveat, nothing special, they're just happy to see you, and honestly I wish I was a later sleeper so that it would happen more often.

(I've often been tempted to do something similar. It would be fun to see how he reacts to waking up with me sitting on his stomach for example, but I think that's a bit too much for our current relationship.)

Today is not one of those days where I wake up after Nathan. I wake up with my face mashed against his bedroll like usual. I probably have the imprint of the fur on my cheek. Noire isn't up yet, so no breakfast. I've got nothing to do but wait around until people wake up.

Well, Kjelle is awake, but she's training. She's always training… to the point that I'm worried it might be doing her more harm than good. Seriously, this girl trains minimum four hours a day, no exceptions, and that's not taking into account all the walking we do. It is possible to overtrain and damage your muscles. I don't know what the exact threshold is though. I probably did at one point, but I can't remember now.

I have to wonder how much specific knowledge I've lost with my amnesia. I have a lot of general knowledge, but few of the exact details to go along with it.

Anyhow, no one is awake, so I entertain myself with the only thing I have… a book. Specifically the erotica book I bought a week and a bit ago when I learned Nathan can't read archanean. It's bad, really really bad, and I love it. Besides, if I'm going to be "gifting" this to my maybe-brother I should at least know what I'm giving him.

The plot (bare bones as it is) is that there is some wandering swordsman who gets into a very one-sided "romance" with some village girl who spends most of the tale telling him to fuck off exept when he pulls down his pants and she "can't help herself because he's so manly and thick".

Yes, that's an actual line from the book. Again, it's really bad, and I'm smiling like an idiot the entire time I read it.

Kjelle marches back into camp looking sweaty and refreshed. She casts a mildly disapproving gaze over the two late sleepers, then notices me reading my book and shakes her head. "You're still reading that?" She asks quietly. "I thought you said it was terrible."

"It is. That's what makes it so much fun to read." I reply.

"Didn't you also say it was porn?"

"The term is erotica thank you… and yes, it is." I say. "Why? Are you interested?"

"Naga no." Kjelle grimaces. "What do you take me for?"

"Someone who could use a good laugh." I say. I wave the book at her. "C'mon…"

"No."

"Prude."

"Degenerate."

"And proud of it!"

"Ugh…" She sighs. "You could stand to learn what shame is."

"And you could stand to learn about the joys of really bad porn."

Kjelle makes a face. "Those are words I never want to hear directed at me again."

"Well if you read the book, you won't have to hear them again!" I say cheerily.

"No."

"You're no fun." I huff. "Oh, hey, maybe I should read an excerpt to get you interested."

"Don't." She says sharply, and I promptly ignore her.

"Mary would like to smack the smug grin off Rick's face." I narrate gleefully. "His smile looked like that of a donkey that had just eaten a particularly tasty strip of lamb-"

"Donkey's don't eat lamb." Kjelle growls. "They don't eat meat at all. They're herbivores."

"-and then taken a particularly refreshing shit." I continue with a mad grin. "He put a particularly greasy hand around her shoulder, which she tried particularly hard to remove without making a scene. She had a role to fulfil as the pure village maiden after all."

"But that's a character archetype, not an actual role!" Kjelle seethes. "And why does the story have to say "particularly" every other word?!"

"Rick-" I choke back a laugh, both at the passage and Kjelle's increasingly frustrated commentary. "-guided Mary particularly insistently behind the tavern where he shoved her roughly up against the particularly hard wall. Mary's eyes glared defiantly at his sleazy face, though she couldn't help but be distracted by his well-defined thorax that his shirt clung to like a wet towel-"

"Thorax?" Kjelle says incredulously. "Do they mean chest? Who the fuck uses the word thorax outside of science talk?"

I giggle and continue. "-and as her gaze travelled even lower she noticed a particularly large-"

"Okay! That's enough!" Kjelle barks, not caring for the volume of her voice. Apparently she must have been quite embarrassed, because her voice actually cracked upon saying "Okay."

I burst out laughing, and the combination of my laughter and Kjelle's shouting wakes the other two members of our party. Nathan is confused and blearily glances between the two of us while Noire gives everyone a death glare from underneath tangled black hair.

###

Fun fact! I don't get rides when we're marching just because I'm lazy. It's because I'm lazy and because I'm cold. Like I said before, I'm small and don't have much body fat, so I get cold real easy. Now I have the best coat ever, but Nathan has furs, and furs are warm. Also he's warm, because human beings are warm.

That's kinda how human beings work if you didn't know. We're warm. Also, that thing about exercise warming you up? Well it's true, but it makes you feel tired and sweaty and that's no fun. If you want to get warm on the go, find someone with really fluffy clothes and get a piggyback ride by using your feminine wiles… or just ask.

I bet I could get a ride from a stranger using my adorable face if I had to. I might have to stab them if they turned out to be creepy though. Alas, such is the price of being as attractive as myself. Everyone wants to keep you.

And yes, I'm aware I'm "cute" and not mature. I'm not oblivious to my appearance. I'm only joking that I haven't hit my growth spurt… mostly. I feel like I haven't properly hit it yet. Some part of my subconscious, maybe a leftover of my memory, makes me feel like I should still grow. But I'm eighteen. I think I'm eighteen at least. That also feels right. But an eighteen year old that hasn't completed puberty? As Nathan pointed out, that's extremely unlikely. Not impossible mind you, especially if I'm willing to consider genetic conditions, just unlikely.

I wonder what I'd look like if I did get my growth spurt. I bet I'd look super peppy, but also smart and refined, but also awesome. Not that I'm not awesome right now, of course, but I'd look ever more so to the point that people would faint from my sheer awesomeness!

Would I stay cute if I grew, or would I tend towards sexy? Ooh, that would be fun. It would probably depend on the clothes a bit. Maybe I could switch between the two! Maybe I could even look refined? Augh, I wish I knew fashion. Is my tactician's coat elegant or is it cute? Hmm...

Anyhow, tangent over.

I'm often tempted, as I get these piggyback rides, to nibble Nathan's ear. It's literally right next to my face because my head is resting on his shoulder. We're… well I can't say dating because we've done nothing of the sort due to us being on the road and Nathan fully planning on getting back home at some point. Our relationship (such as it is) consists of me being mildly flirtatious and him (being too self-conscious to be flirtatious) being affectionate in subtle ways. Mostly this manifests as him being overly concerned about me, having seemingly infinite patience for whatever I want to talk about, and (very cautiously) sometimes initiating physical contact.

Point is, our relationship is tame, so as much as I really want to see how he'd react I refrain from doing it. Actually, that applies to a lot of things I want to do concerning Nathan. Maybe that's a good thing though. He fully intends to go home if he can, so getting too intimate might be a bad idea in the long run. Maybe it's because I'm a lewd like Nathan jokes about, or maybe I crave intimacy or something. I dunno. Even though I know it's a bad idea, I'm always tempted to be just a little more forward, a little bit lewd, and to not hold back what I'm actually thinking in favor of politeness or out of worry of taking things too far.

I guess I sorta jumped into this relationship without giving it a lot of consideration. Ah well, I'm not going to complain about it. I'll enjoy it while it lasts. There are worse experiences I could have in my life than a sort-of romantic relationship with a clingy, anxious, but well-meaning, polite, and surprisingly sweet guy. Besides, if he can't get home, then my investment pays off. Win-win.

I still want to nibble his ear though. I'm gonna do that at some point, mark my words. I also want to see what he actually looks like. I dunno what "caucasian" is, but I'm gonna see it at some point. I promised I'd take care of him, and that involves finding a way to get his old body back.

I think technically I promised I'd help him adapt to this world, I don't remember exactly how I said it, but whatever. The spirit of the promise was that I'd take care of him, and I'm going to stick to that.

Nathan's voice interrupts my musings. "Morgan?"

"Hmm?"

"You're unusually quiet." He says.

"Just thinking."

"Right." His tone is vaguely uncertain, like he doesn't fully believe me. "As long as you're okay."

What? What does that mean? "Huh?"

"I dunno, you're rarely quiet. So I thought something might be off."

"Are you saying I never shut up?" I pout.

"Uh…" He hesitates. "Yes? But more politely."

"Well excuse me for being chatty." I huff. "It's not enough to have a cute girl on your back, they have to always be talking to you too?"

Nathan tenses. "That's not-"

"Nathan. Joke."

"Oh, right." He mumbles. "But you are okay, right?"

I grin, not that he can actually see me at the moment. "Yes Nathan, I'm fine."

"Okay…"

And this is why I initiated our sort-of relationship in the first place: he's cute. Awkward, but cute.

###

"Noire!"

"Y-Yes?"

"How are you holding up?" I've taken to periodically checking on Noire. The first time it was because Nathan asked me to, but seeing as Noire is a bit shy I figured it would be a good idea to check in on her every so often.

"I-I'm fine…"

"Are you sure? Are your legs hurting? You haven't been taking rides anymore."

"It's fine, really." She mumbles. "I don't find I need to anymore. I think it's because I've had more to eat s-so I'm more healthy."

"Oh, well that's good." I guess she didn't eat a lot in her old world. That explains why she's so thin at least. Now that I think of it, so is Kjelle despite all her training. I don't often see Kjelle out of her armor, but she doesn't have nearly as much muscle as I'd expect of someone who trains as much as she does. "I thought it was because Nathan weirded you out."

"That too." She admits sheepishly. "He always avoids looking at me for some reason."

I think that's because Noire is busty. Just by observing how Nathan acts, I'm fairly sure he goes by the logic of: "staring is rude, Noire being hot means I'd stare, so I should avoid looking at her in the first place to be polite". I'm not about to tell Noire that though; it would be immensely embarrassing and I haven't confirmed that's the case (it's just a guess based on Nathan's usual trains of logic). "Well he's just as shy as you are, so that's probably it."

"If you say so…" She sounds unconvinced.

Maybe I need to change the topic. How do you do girl talk? Would Noire do girl talk at all? She's lived in a post-apocalyptic wasteland for multiple years now, so she probably wouldn't have anything to say on that front anyways. Think Morgan. What could she talk about? "Are you more comfortable around Kjelle?"

"A bit."

"Were you more comfortable around some of the others? Anyone you're looking forward to finding again?" I ask. This feels like a good idea. Surely she must have had a friend or two among the other future kids.

"I miss Severa." Noire says almost instantly. "And Brady too…"

Okay, good choice Morg! I'm a genius. Severa is the red-haired bitchy one, right? That's what Nathan told me. Brady is the frail, thuggish, but sensitive one. "Severa? Brady? Ooh, Nathan told me Severa is big on shopping. Did you go shopping together!?"

"No, no." Noire smiles nervously. "She's just really nice. I mean, she complains a lot, but she's always helped me out whenever I need it. I think I lean on her a bit too much sometimes."

Ah, so the exact opposite of what Nathan told me. Or, at least, the surface elements he was willing to divulge. Interesting. "What does she help you with?"

"Everything…" Noire mumbles. "When I tore my clothes she'd help me mend them, when we started to go on the run she taught me how to skin, clean, gut, and cook things, when I had nightmares she'd hold my hand until I could fall asleep again… she did everything for me. She'd complain about it, but she'd always help."

"Huh, that sounds nice." I muse. "She'll be interesting to meet."

"I-If you like shopping you'll get along well." Noire says. "She really likes shopping."

"Noted." A new shopping partner? Yes please. "And what about Brady?"

"Brady, uh… we're… friends." Noire's fingers tangle together and fidget. "We've known each other for a long time. My parents used to visit Themis a lot because Dad was friends with Queen Maribelle, and they'd bring me along to the palace. Princess Lucina was usually too busy to play with me, so I'd spend time with Brady because he was too frail to do as much training as the Princess. Also, we'd both get sick a lot, so we'd spend a lot of time stuck in a room together being forced to stay in bed with only each other to talk to."

"Ahh, so you're close buddies."

"Y-Yeah." She mumbles shyly. "Friends."

I try not to smile too much. "Very subtle."

"Wh-What?"

"Nothing~"

"What?! What do you mean?" She whines.

I pat her shoulders. "You're adorable."

"What?"

"Good luck."

Noire looks very lost, and I love it. "I don't understand…"

Well, there's always the chance she did mean friends innocently, so maybe I shouldn't insinuate. It is interesting that she uses the title of every other royal family member except Brady though. "Don't worry about it, just making a joke. Hopefully we'll find Severa and Brady soon for your sake. Maybe they'll be at Ylisstol!"

"I-It's really not a big deal."

"But you'd like them to be there, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would."

"Then let's cross our fingers that they're there." I say cheerfully. "I'm curious what you're like when you're not quiet."

"What?"

"You're always quiet, I wanna see what you're like when you're enthusiastic." I say honestly. "Because you've always been really nervous around the rest of us. You look like a good friend!"

That gets a blush out of her and much more stammering. I'm gonna call that a job well done!

###

It's not that Nathan isn't aware that he stands out by behaviour alone. He's said he knows as much, though I think he fails to understand the extent of it. Nathan thinks he stands out because of his body language. His exact words were something along the lines of "I always look nervous, and nervousness tends to stand out" which is fair enough, he's not wrong.

What stands out more is that he follows me around. I don't mean that he looks suspicious while doing it or anything, I mean that it's strange to people to see a grown man following around a girl who looks maybe thirteen.

We haven't had the same issue as the first town we came to where everyone thought Nathan was kidnapping me or was some creepy pedophile, but Nathan still gets some stares for the same reason. Nathan hasn't quite figured it out, and I don't want to tell him because I know his immediate reaction is going to be to stop following me around, and neither of us want that.

I suppose the issue could be solved if Nathan simply walked in front of me rather than me leading the way, but that would be awkward because I'd still be the one who's deciding where we're going because the only real reason he comes along is because he likes being around me.

That and his fear of abandonment which translates into a fear of being alone. Add on top of that me being the only person he trusts to actively look out for him rather than just tolerate his existence (his words, not mine), and yeah… I think the word "clingy" fits him well.

Sometimes dealing with Nathan is like dealing with a skittish dog. You need a lot of positive reinforcement and a ton of patience. Being able to sling around logic is useful too.

Today we're shopping for supplies. We'd shop for pleasure afterwards, but this town is too small to have anything substantial to offer on that front. We walk into the general store, which is already occupied with another traveller (judging by the garb at least). We've got a few items to get here. I need a whetstone because my sword is starting to dull, some bandages for Noire, rations, and soap.

"Nathan."

"Hmm?"

"Ask the owner if he carries whetstones. That might not be the sort of thing carried here." I instruct. "I'm gonna grab the other stuff."

Now that might seem like something simple, but no! I am a master tactician! This request is in fact a ploy! Well, it's not much of a ploy. I literally just want him to talk to someone that isn't me, because usually he doesn't. I get that he doesn't like talking to strangers, but it's to the point where it actually causes him anxiety when he has to which is a bit concerning, so if I can nudge him into getting somewhat used to it I will.

I deliberately take my time in finding all the items I need so I can listen in on Nathan's conversation. There's nothing too unusual about it. Nathan asks if the man sells whetstones, the guy says yes, and Nathan buys a whetstone.

…

Wait, I'm supposed to be buying that. Nathan, there are at least four other things we need to get, I just wanted you to ask if he had one. I rush up to the counter holding the rest of the things we need to buy. "Nathan!"

"What?"

"I'm supposed to be buying all the stuff."

"But you were being slow." He mumbles. "And I didn't want to make him wait."

That's a frankly unnecessary amount of politeness. "Nathan…"

"Sorry…"

"No, it's fine." I say with a smile. It's ridiculous logic, but very fitting for Nathan. I turn to the shopkeeper and put my stuff up on the counter. "These please!"

The shopkeeper glances between me and Nathan with obvious curiosity, but doesn't comment. I pay for the rest of the items and we step outside.

"Nathan, seriously." I huff. "Next time just wait."

"But I didn't want to keep him waiting."

"You don't need to be that polite Nathan."

"I don't want to be rude." He says stubbornly. "Besides, all I did was save time."

I roll my eyes. "Sure, sure. How much did the whetstone cost?"

"Uhh… I think it was fifty coopper."

I can feel irritation coil in my gut, but I hold back from letting it show too much. "Expensive huh?" I hum. A whetstone is a very common item, it shouldn't be worth equal to a farming family's monthly income. Nathan just got ripped off by a huge extent. A whetstone should be worth less than half that amount. Is it because he looks foreign? Is that it? Or maybe the shopkeep could tell he was nervous and jacked up the price? Worse, he doesn't even know that he got ripped off because he has no sense for what value things are in Archanean currency, and might not even know what a whetstone is considering swords aren't normal weapons in his world. "Well at least let me pay you back then. I don't have fifty copper, so here." I hand him a silver piece. That's twice the amount he paid, but whatever. One silver is functionally irrelevant to me.

"No."

"Nathan…"

"You're way overpaying me."

"Nathan, I have dozens of gold pieces. One silver is nothing."

"I haven't earned it."

"Well then the rest is a gift."

"I refuse."

Come on Nathan, seriously. You were the one who was so anxious about not having money of your own before. I'm offering you free money here. "Nathan, you wanted money-"

"I earned this money." He says, and grabs his coin pouch. "That's the difference."

"Nathan, I'm your girlfriend, you can accept money from me. It's not a bribe or something."

"But…"

"If you don't take the silver now I'm going to slip it into your coin pouch when you sleep." I threaten petulantly. This is an absurd argument. This should not be a point of conflict.

He frowns at me and reluctantly takes the silver. "Fine."

I guess I could have backed down and just not given him the silver. After all, I don't see any situation in the foreseeable future where I wouldn't buy him nearly whatever he needs because I'm a doting girlfriend (and because my money is temporarily group funds, but sush, I need to make myself look as good as possible) unless it's something truly unreasonable, so it doesn't really matter how much money he has. I insisted he take the money on principal because pride or something being "unearned' is no reason to reject goodwill.

Well, there's probably some situation where there is a good reason. This is not one of those situations.

"Look, I'll buy you a trinket or something if it makes you feel better."

"That makes it even worse." He mutters.

Okay, yeah, in hindsight that wasn't the right thing to say. "Fine then. You buy me something to spend that fifty extra copper if you really don't want it."

"Uh…"

That wasn't the right thing to say either. Now I look needy. How do you do this relationship thing? I'm trying to be nice here!

"I wouldn't know what to get you." Oh, okay, so it's not an issue. Cool.

"Literally anything." I'm more just curious what he'd choose because I can't think of anything I'd want.

His choice is interesting. He gets me lots of spools of thread to go along with the sewing needles I've collected. When I ask if he's making a joke about women being good at sewing, his reply is "That honestly didn't occur to me. I was more thinking that I know your coat is important to you, so having repair supplies on hand might be nice."

It's only at that point I notice all the thread is black, purple, and gold. The perfect colors to match my coat. That's actually a really thoughtful choice.

Purple is also a very expensive color due to the colour being associated with royalty, and he ends up spending two silver on the purple thread alone. This time he doesn't complain when I hand him two silver to compensate.

###

Earth- that's what Nathan's universe calls their planet- is a curious place. Sometimes Nathan tells me about cool stuff like technology and the olympics and social progress, and sometimes he tells me about the shitty stuff like nuclear standoffs, flagrant disregard for human life, and the (in his opinion) near global corruption in politics.

And then sometimes...

"Did I ever tell you the song about an old man trying to get a young boy to give him a handjob?"

I laugh at the mere thought. "Excuse me, what? There's a song about that?"

"Yep."

"I have to hear this."

And so he gleefully regails me with an absurd song about a boy with a princess-saving ocarina and an old man who painted his man parts. The references to various media (popular "video" games according to Nathan, with the song itself being a joke about a video game) go completely over my head, but I love the song anyways if just for the absurd premise.

It's a real shame I can't hear the music that goes along with all these songs he's sung. Nathan has tried to explain things like "techno" and "pop" and "rock" to me but his own lack of musical knowledge makes it so he can't explain them effectively. The only thing he's managed to explain is rap, and that's because most of them are barely songs in the first place and are much closer to aggressively musical poems.

Well, sometimes they are. "Rap" seems to vary quite a bit. Some are proper songs, and some are "just people talking really fast with irrelevant music in the background" (Nathan's words, not mine).

"Please tell me there are more songs like that." I say after Nathan finishes singing it. "There can't just be one, right?"

"Well none quite like that, at least that I'm aware." Nathan says. "But the band does have a few other absurd songs. There's one about a superhero group who go way overboard on minor tasks and cause huge collateral damage."

"Yes please!" I say eagerly.

"I guess Starbomb is up your alley." He smiles. "Alright then…"

Nathan regails me with various absurd songs as we wander around the outskirts of town. The amount of weird stuff his world has come up with never ceases to amaze me. When people have a lot of free time on their hands, apparently they make giant toy balls the size of people and jump out of flying machines for fun, among hundreds of other random things.

There has to be some sort of spell that would let Nathan project his thoughts. I want to see what his world looks like. Explanations are no substitute for actually seeing things. Maybe Father will know. I can ask when we find him.

###

"Hello, my name is Morgan." I whisper to myself. "No, no, not that…"

I pull myself upright and grin.

"Heya! I'm Morgan!" I chirp. Then I frown. "No, that's too informal."

I'm practicing how I'm going to introduce myself to Father. That's going to be a super-important moment in the near future! I need to be perfect! But how formal do I be? How informal? What's going to impress Father the most?

What am I supposed to tell him about myself too? I have no memories. Am I just supposed to say: "Hi, I'm Morgan! I'm an amnesiac, but I think you're my father! I have no idea who my mother is, or if I have a sibling! I have no hobbies to speak of and I have no idea what I like!"

I know I'm naturally awesome, but even my natural awesomeness won't carry that conversation. I guess I might have hobbies. I play chess with Nathan and like shopping, but that's not great. "I like spending money and playing this one specific foreign strategy game!" is only marginally better than having no hobbies at all.

What am I supposed to say to Mother too? Oh Naga I never even considered that. How am I supposed to talk to her at all? I don't even know who she is for sure! I don't have any memories of her! "Hi Mom! You are my mom, right?" is not a great conversation starter. I might as well just shank her in the stomach. It's gotta sting to know your future kid doesn't remember you at all but remembers their other parent. I can imagine how much that might mess them up. They're going to think they were a bad parent, and I have no idea if that was true or not!

But I can't not talk to Mother. That would be even worse. She'd think I was avoiding her because she was terrible, and that won't be true at all because I'll have no idea what she's like!

Sorry Mother, whoever you are. I didn't ask to get amnesia. It sucks. I mean, it probably sucks. Maybe you're a terrible parent and I'm lucky to not remember anything about-

Augh, no, I shouldn't be thinking that! Nathan probably would have told me if any of my possible parents were really bad. Probably? No, he would have, right? Or does that fall under the "personal information I shouldn't be talking about" category in his mind?

No, he seemed pretty enthusiastic when talking about Olivia and Anna. They're probably good people. This sucks, all I know about my mother is maybe two sentences Nathan has said about them, and that's assuming Nathan's deductions on who their identities are accurate in the first place.

That makes me a bad daughter, doesn't it? But I have no memories so it's not my fault! Should I be trying harder to find out who she is? I don't have reliable information to work with though! Nathan can try his best, but he's dealing with a multiple-universe issue and trying to derive conclusions about an actual world using knowledge from a game, and we both know it's not necessarily going to be accurate.

All I can do is hope to run into a sibling if I have one, or hope one of the future kids recognizes me as the daughter of Robin and insert-woman-here.

This is also ignoring that I'm probably from a different future where the pairings might have been different, so there's no guarantee I'll ever meet my actual mother, and I'll never really know if the world I came from lines up with this one.

Fun thoughts all around. Sorry I don't know too much about you Father. Sorry I don't know who you are Mom. I'll make it up to you by being awesome. I swear! I'm a tactical genius, I'm cute as fuck, and you can still see me grow up because I still haven't hit my growth spurt, and I know how to fight, and… and… that's about it…

I have a sort-of boyfriend. Is that a good thing? Is Father going to be protective and say "you can't have a boyfriend!" because I don't want to have to choose between Nathan and Father. I mean, if that happens it probably means Father is a jerk, so that simplifies things, but it'd still suck.

There's so many ways Father and Nathan meeting could go wrong. Nathan is already nervous around people like Kjelle and Noire, and I can't imagine his girlfriend's father who is also high-ranking military personnel is going to be any less nerve-wracking for him, and I just have no idea how Father will react to Nathan. Curiosity, hostility, caution, warmth? Who knows? I sure don't!

Father might disapprove of me and he might disapprove of my boyfriend. Mom might too, and I can't try to prepare for her because I don't know for sure who she is! This sucks.

###

"Ah, I do enjoy the smell o' the sea breeze…" I muse. "It's a good day fer sailin'!"

"Aye captain." Nathan says. "Everythin's ship-shape and ready to go. We've got news o' some merchant vessels comin' down the pass. We should be able to get eyes on 'em within the day."

"My blade be thirstin' for a good raid." I chuckle. "Put the sails to full mast! We'll have their treasure by sunset lads!"

"Are you two incapable of being normal for more than a week at a time?" Kjelle mutters.

"There are people watching!" Noire whines.

Incidentally, we're in a port at the south east part of Ferox. We've already purchased passage over to the Isle of Argent. Apparently the people who live on the island call it "L'isle de Argent" (which, if Nathan is right about that language being accurate to his world's language of "French", means either "the island of money" or "the island of silver", he can't quite remember which).

That's sorta weird though. Ferox doesn't speak "French" (or whatever this world's equivalent is) from what I know, nor does Ylisse from what Kjelle knows, so why does this island specifically have a name in a different language?

The Feroxi sailors we asked didn't know, so we'll just have to ask someone at the island when we get there. It's going to take about a week to get across the bay. Our ship leaves soon. The captain said just after sunrise, and the sun came up about twenty minutes ago, so we should be leaving soon.

The ship is small, made for transporting supplies more than it is people. It doesn't have any proper guest rooms, but they do have an empty crew room they were willing to let us stay in over the ride. It's cheaper and faster than chartering a proper passenger ship, because this ship is made for efficiency and not comfort.

That does mean our beds probably won't be the best, but whatever. We still have all our blankets we got in the north, so we can put those under ourselves for extra cushioning. It's not super cold now that we're closer to Ylisse, so we won't necessarily have to pull the blankets over ourselves all the time for warmth.

At least we have beds at all. It's not unusual for the only sleeping arrangements for the crew to be hammocks rather than beds to save on money.

"Well you two sound excited." The captain, an extremely short, muscled, brown-skinned man about Morgan's height. He's completely blind as evidenced by his milky eyes, and carries around a wooden staff equal to his height. "I hate to tell you that you're gonna be disappointed, but you are. Sailing ain't anything glorious. 'specially for passengers like you, there's a lot o' downtime."

"But we get to ride a ship!" Morgan says eagerly. "I've never ridden a ship before!"

"It's just a ship." Kjelle says dryly. "We're going to be lucky if our food isn't maggot-infested. That's just how things are on ships."

"You're speakin' truth." The captain says. "At least, if you're talkin' 'bout fifty years ago. There's been improvements since then, lass. Ways to deal with maggots and rats. Any captain with even an ounce of care for their crew, or who wants to eat half-decent food, will have the new measures and equipment."

Nathan looks immensely interested. "Really? What sort of measures? Do you deal with scurvy too?"

"Aye." The captain nods in amusement. "If you're all so interested, I'll tell you about it when we're on our way. S'not often I have passengers interested in how everythin' on the ship works. Especially not rich men like yerself."

Nathan blinks in obvious surprise and glances at himself self-consciously. He probably doesn't think he looks rich, and he doesn't, but he is travelling with three relatively well-dressed young women (I've got my nice coat, Kjelle has her armor and solid travelling clothes, and we bought some quality deerskin clothes for Noire back when we first found her to replace her torn outfit), so it's no wonder the captain assumes he's rich.

Though that's probably because, once again, Nathan is assumed to be in charge of our little group on virtue of being male.

"Morgan is the rich one." Nathan says honestly. "I'm just a friend."

"Ah, I see." The captain smiles. "Good catch."

Nathan looks nervous now, not wanting to say something presumptuous most likely. "That's… uh…"

"Accurate!" I chirp. I am a good catch. The best in fact. I decide to redirect things though. "So, when do we leave? Do you sing songs when you sail? What sort of stuff are you transporting?"

"I'm just waitin' for the men to arrive." The captain says. "The boys are probably hungover knowin' them. We'll leave in a minute. I gotta inspect the ship one last time just to make sure everything is ready to go. I'll be happy to answer questions after we're properly on our way."

"Okay, but hurry then!" I say. "I have so many questions."

The captain chuckles and walks up onto the deck. His staff clacks against the wood as he marches around and feels various ropes to check if they're properly tied. He turns the wheel to make sure it works, and then calls us. "Feel free to come up! I'm going to check below deck. If any of the boys arrive, tell them where to find me!"

"Okaaaaay!" I shout. The captain stomps down the stairs as I skip up on deck and go right to the front of the ship. I lean way over the railing to look at the water below. "Cool…"

"Better get used to it. It's all you're going to see for a few days." Kjelle grumbles.

"Don't lean so far over the railing." Nathan mumbles to me, and lightly grabs my shoulders.

"We're not even moving Nathan."

"I don't want you to fall…"

"I hope I don't get seasick." Noire mumbles worriedly. "I've never been on a ship."

"If the ship rocks too much I won't be able to train." Kjelle grumbles. "Then what am I going to do?"

"I have a book you can read." I offer.

"No."

"Aww, c'mon…"

Chapter Text

So the ship smells awful, but the food isn't half bad. Surprisingly it's not just fish.

The captain made good on his promise to answer our questions, and it's interesting. Well, interesting to me, if not particularly relevant. Kjelle is coming along on this impromptu tour because she wants to make sure the food is actually being kept well and we won't be eating maggots, and Morgan is coming out of mild curiosity but also just because of me I think. It's the same way I follow her around when she shops. Noire went straight to the room. She said she didn't want to be out when the sailors got here because… I have no idea actually. She didn't explain.

"So, the food." The captain chuckles. "Since the lady knight is so concerned about it." He swings his staff and taps some barrels. "We keep all the food and drink in these."

"Those are just normal barrels." Kjelle growls.

"Not quite lass." The captain grabs the lid of one of the barrels and deftly pulls it off. Peering over, I can see… water. It's just water.

"It's water." Kjelle states flatly, apparently agreeing with me.

"Then yer looking at the wrong thing." The captain says. "Look at the barrel."

I don't see what he's talking about and apparently neither does Kjelle, but Morgan is more perceptive than us. "It's thick."

"Right you are." The blind man says with a smile. "Barrel's got two walls to it, and an inch o' salt between 'em. Ain't many bugs or vermin that are gonna fancy digging through that to get to the goods. Not cheap to make, but it if keeps the food an' drink safe who are we t'argue?" He puts the lid back on. "Also, when removin' food or drink a sailor now gotta have clean hands. Didn't before, and sometimes it caused some nasty molds of funguses. A simple fix, but a mighty useful one."

"Hmm…" Kjelle frowns. It's unclear if she's convinced or just annoyed that she was proven wrong about the food being terrible.

"We also got a ship cat. Don't know where the little lady has gone off to, but she keeps the rats away." The captain continues. "O'course we can't do anythin' about the food gettin' old, so it ain't gonna be fresh, but we can keep it from rottin' or getting eaten by somethin' else. Smokin' or boilin' the food before eatin' it also helps to stave off the bugs, just as a safety measure."

That's honestly not half bad. I was expecting a much more lackadaisical attitude towards food safety considering the time period, but he seems to have most of the bases covered. Clean hands, pest control, additional measures to kill anything on the food before eating it... that's pretty solid.

"I'm surprised it took so long to come up with this." Morgan muses. "Was it really that hard to think up?"

"Mostly it was just that no one wanted to put in the money." The captain huffs. "Salt ain't expensive, but several dozen kilograms o' anything except dirt ain't exactly cheap. Once it got figured out that we'd have to put some money into it, we got far pretty quickly. I think I still have one o' the older tries…"

He takes a moment to tap around with his staff, occasionally pushing aside a crate or barrel. Eventually he finds what he's looking for and waves us over.

"See this here?" He taps a unique crate. It has a concave curve to its sides and metal studs dotting every edge. "Originally this was what we were goin' with. The shape keeps rats from bein' able to bite the sides, an' the metal stops 'em from chewin' through the edges. Didn't deal with the bugs though, so no one went for it."

"Couldn't you have just made this two-walled and used salt as well?"

"Sure." The captain nods. "But that's even more money and effort than the barrel because of the studs, and it takes up a lot more space 'cause of the shape. The barrel made more sense in the end."

"Cool…" And I mean that genuinely. This is fascinating to me, if not particularly relevant to anything. I just like learning new things (as long as it doesn't involve homework or something, that really kills the enjoyment).

"That's really all there is to the new food measures." The captain admits. "A new barrel and clean hands, but it's made a world o' difference."

"I'll take your word for it." I nod.

"I'll believe it when I taste my food." Kjelle mutters. However, with her curiosity satisfied, she leaves to join Noire in the room.

"I think she doesn't like it when she's wrong." Morgan notes cheerfully. "Anyhow, that was enlightening."

"Glad you're interested." The captain smiles. "It's not often someone is enthusiastic about learning such things."

"It's fun to learn." I say. I mean that with only partially honestly. It's fun to know how things work, even if you'll inevitably forget in two days. The effort to remember something through repetition is zero fun, homework in school has proven that time and time again, but the facts themselves are interesting.

"Aye." The captain smiles. He looks like he's going to say more, but footsteps and loud voices become audible above deck. I can't make out what they're saying, but I can tell by their tone that some of them are complaining or bickering. "And there are the boys… I better wrangle them to order. We'll leave soon, just stay outta the way as we prepare. I'll tap on yer door when we're underway. Shouldn't take more than a few minutes."

Me and Morgan make our way to our room as the captain splits off from us to go above deck. I can see his entire demeanor change as he walks up the stairs. He goes from calm, and walking with a smooth gait to suddenly having a swagger and holding his head up so he's looking down his nose at everyone when he emerges on deck. His voice also suddenly raises to a harsh shout as he barks orders and yells down complaints and excuses from his men.

"There we go." Morgan nods. "That's more what I expected."

"What do you mean?"

"Well when I found him yesterday he was yelling at his men, so I was a bit surprised this morning when he was all nice and calm." Morgan explains. "I mean, he was calmer when I talked to him too, but with all his men around I think he wanted to keep a tough front at the time."

Ahh, okay. So it's that sort of culture. Gotta look strong and manly or the men won't respect you, right? Maybe? Okay, I don't really know, I'm making a guess. Maybe he doesn't mind acting tough. I don't need to jump to the conclusion that he puts on a mask.

Opening the door, me and Morgan get our first look at what will be our room for the next week. It's… literally just beds, which is to be expected. At least the beds have mattresses though. Maybe not good ones, but hey, we have blankets and bedrolls to pad those out if we need to.

The first thing Kjelle says when we enter is: "There are no bugs in the beds, I checked." She sounds off-put by that. I think she's just looking for something to complain about at this point. She wants to find something wrong.

"Cool!" Morgan gazes at the two bunk beds and points at one. "I call top!"

I shoot that down instantly. "No way."

"What? Why not!?"

"Need I recall a certain burned face you got?"

"What does that have to do with-"

"I'm not going to let you into a position where you'll roll out of bed and fall two meters to the ground." I say. "You're on the bottom."

"You just want the top, don't you?"

"No, actually, I really don't feel comfortable on the top."

That peaks Morgan's interest. "You've slept in beds like this before?"

"Bunk beds? Yeah. I have three siblings. When we were younger we had two bunk beds."

"So you're just being mean then." Morgan pouts.

"Yes, I'm being cruel, condemning you to the lower bunk like the lowlife you are."

Mogan makes an exaggerated gasp. "How dare you! A lowlife? Call me anything else, but not a lowlife! Such a label is the ultimate insult!"

"Anything else?"

"Call me a bitch, a whore, or any other name! I care not!" Morgan proclaims. "And give me the top bunk!"

"Know your place." I huff, and turn up my nose at her. "A woman's place is on the bottom, you… you…"

Morgan waits for me to finish so she can continue the joke, but when I hesitate a smile creeps across her face. "Nathan, I basically just gave you permission to insult me."

"Well, as a joke…"

"Nathan, you can insult me if it's a joke or sarcastic." She leans forward and wiggles her eyebrows. "Or for fun times, if we get to that point."

"There are other fucking people in the room!" Kjelle says loudly. I'm actually glad for the interruption this time, because it means I don't have to fumble through an answer to Morgan's words. "You can sort out your beds without innuendos thank you very much."

"That's no fun." Morgan huffs. "But fine… I'm on top."

"I already said no, and I stand by that." I retort. "I won't have you cracking your head open when you fall off."

"Umm…" Noire says quietly. "Couldn't me and Kjelle just take the top beds…?"

"Don't give them leeway Noire." Kjelle mutters to the other girl. "They can sort it out themselves, on their side of the room."

"Come on Nathan!"

"If you try to go on top I'm tying you to the bed so you don't fall." I threaten.

Morgan's smile quirks into a wide grin, and she's visibly fighting not to joke about that. I'm starting to think my jokes about Morgan being a lewd girl are much more accurate than I ever expected them to be. That's certainly a character trait that didn't come up in the game. "But you just said you don't like being on top either."

"Can you two not speak in innuendo?" Kjelle snaps.

I kinda hadn't realized I was doing that. Judging by Morgan's barely contained laugh, she very much knew. I expect my face is red at the moment, though I don't want to ask to confirm. "I- well- I'm just concerned that-"

"Fiiiiine, I'll sleep on the bottom." Morgan interrupts with an amused huff. "But you can join me if you want."

"Morgan." Kjelle growls darkly.

Morgan actively ignores Kjelle. "It'll be like back in the inn when we met, yeah? If you don't want the top, but don't want me to have it because we're worried, then we can just share. It's not like we haven't before, right?"

"Uh, right." I blink. That was not the result I was expecting, though by this point I think I should be anticipating Morgan's utter confidence and lack of embarrassment to result in suggestions like this. "S-Sure. That works."

Morgan then turns towards Kjelle with a wide, mocking smile and a simpering tone. "There, we sorted out our side of the room. Are you happy, lady knight?"

"Fuck you." Kjelle replies flatly.

She doesn't tell us to change the plan though. Morgan looks very smug after that.

###

Morgan has no fear. A room full of big burly men who've done nothing but cuss and complain and shout all day? Not intimidating at all to Morgan. She's ready to stride into the mess room without a single worry. Even Kjelle looks reluctant, and Noire outright worried. I'm feeling a bit nervous myself. I'll be in trouble if I have to talk to any of the sailors I think. I'm awkward at the best of times, and I'm not sure how much I can hide behind Morgan here.

Morgan is either oblivious to our apprehension (unlikely) or choosing not to talk about it. She does grab my arm before we walk in though, giving me some level of reassurance.

It's not that all eyes in the room turn to us, just most of them. The sailors look exactly like I expected them to look. Tall, muscular, sometimes tattooed, always intimidating.

Well, intimidating to me, because I'm a coward. Being the same height as them in this body really doesn't help. I mostly try not to look at them, instead choosing to focus on Morgan and trying to ignore the stares. Kjelle is apparently going with the "glare at everyone" strategy while Noire is doing her best to not be seen at all by hiding behind me and Kjelle.

There's no food selection. Everyone has the same thing. That said, the meal is well-rounded. There's a large slice of meat, some dried peaches, some cheese, and some simple bread. (How expensive is cheese? Actually, how expensive is meat? How expensive is this meal? If it is expensive, how can a sailing crew afford all of it?) Also, water. There's beer, but our whole group takes water, even Kjelle. I was expecting her to take beer to be honest.

No one tries to talk to us as we get our food from the cook and sit down at an empty table in the corner of the room. It's fairly notable how the talk in the room has died down though. I don't want to look up to see everyone staring at us. I don't want to see the expressions on their faces.

Morgan jumps into the corner seat as soon as quick as she can, and I take a seat next to her. Kjelle sits across from Morgan and next to me with her back facing the room, and Noire takes the seat next to them and across from me.

"So Kjelle." Morgan says cheerfully, after the rest of us have taken a few nervous bites. "How's the food?"

I recognize the taunt for what it is. Kjelle does to, but they're in a room full of people who probably wouldn't appreciate her making a negative comment about their cook so regardless of her actual opinion she's forced to say (albeit with a glare and gritted teeth) "It's fine..."

The food actually is fine. I mean, I'm an extraordinarily picky eater, so I wouldn't say I like most of the food, but it's no worse than anything else we've eaten so far.

With Morgan's taunt to break the tension, all of us relax slightly. We're still on alert, but none of us constantly feel the urge to look over our shoulders. Besides, I've noticed that Morgan is doing that for us. She's sitting in the corner, so that means she's facing the rest of the room, and while she does glance at us when talking she also lets her eyes wander over the rest of the room.

I wonder if she intentionally took the corner seat so she could do that.

I'm tempted to ask what she's noticed, because there are times when her eyes rest on something that I don't want to turn my head to see for fear of drawing attention. I don't want to ask now though, so I mostly stay quiet.

As we eat, our own table is relatively quiet, so I listen to the talk coming from the other tables. There's a lot of general stuff. Tall tales about giant wolves and monsters (that are apparently super dangerous but they all managed to beat single-handedly. I call bullshit), bragging about skill in the most arbitrary things like flipping coins to always land on a certain side, sometimes talk of family (usually parents and siblings), and also a lot of talk of what they hope to do when they reach port.

Apparently a lot of the sailors have an interest in the… women there. Actually, it's mostly talk of their beauty and how "it would be nice to get a high class lady". So I guess there's a lot of rich people on the island? I guess that makes sense. It's literally called the island of money… or silver. I can't remember. I never liked learning French.

Some of the talk is vulgar, and I mostly try to tune that out. There's not as much of it as I expected which is nice, it's still there.

As our meal drags on (there's quite a bit of food on our plates just as there is for the sailors, they eat a lot apparently) people in the room get progressively more drunk. Though when I hear some raised voices that might signify a fight, it's immediately followed by a bark from the captain as he orders both of the men to their beds, and to my surprise the two listen without putting up much of a fight (although with no lack of grumbling). Judging by the chuckles that follow, this is a standard occurrence.

We go through almost the entire meal without any sort of interaction from the rest of the room. I don't know if that's because of Morgan or not. Maybe her occasional pauses are her staring someone down? I don't know. However, I did say "almost" the entire meal. Someone does decide they have to talk to us as we're finishing up our meals. I realize they're coming by Morgan suddenly shifting her attention to something to my left and visibly straightening up in her chair.

Maybe I shouldn't be surprised that he's slightly drunk. He swaggers up to our table (though the effect is a bit ruined by a stumble at the last second) and leans into the space between Kjelle and Noire. "Greetings there ladies." He says with a wide, dopey smile. "Uh, and you." He nods clumsily to me, clearly as an afterthought. "The captain said we had some rich-like passengers this trip. We don't usually get those 'cause they all take them fancy boats or have their own, s-so I'm curious why you're all travellin' with us folk."

The question seems mostly directed at Noire, because that's who the man is mostly looking at, but it's Morgan who responds. "Funnily enough, money." Morgan says calmly. She locks eyes with the man when he looks her way, keeping his attention on her. "A nice ride is pricey, and there's no reason to waste money on that when there's a perfectly good ride available here for a far more reasonable price."

Morgan must have said something right, because the man's smile gets even wider and he starts to nod rapidly. "Ain't it? It's been a long time since we had some nice fa… nice people on board with us. Nice to have smart people."

That's a bit of a non sequitur, but hey, he's drunk, and he doesn't seem that bad. When he staggered up to the table I was expecting some bad flirting, but he was just curious. That's not so bad.

The man babbles for a minute or two, during which Morgan when he eventually realizes he has nothing more to say or ask, and I feel a lot more calm for the rest of the meal.

I do take the chance to talk with Morgan before we have to turn in for the night. I'm still curious about her looking around the room. "Hey Morgan."

"Hmm?" She hums while studying the chess board in front of her. Her hands hover over her bishop then flick to a pawn before pulling back indecisively.

"What did you notice during dinner?" I question. "You did a lot of looking around."

"I was just taking stock of the room and the people in it." She explains absently. "Captain sits in the middle of the room so he can hear everything, probably so he can stop fights. He intentionally left us a corner table free so we could avoid attention as much as possible if we wanted. There's no reason that table would be unoccupied otherwise, because some of the other tables were looking quite cramped. Second in command took a corner of the room like me so he could see everything. He was watching us for the first ten minutes or so. Also, I think the corner table we got was chosen because it was the furthest away from where the potential problem people usually sit. All the louder and more vulgar sailors seemed to be on the other side of the room."

"Oh." I blink. I was expecting a few minor notes, or maybe an observation on some unusual way someone dressed or a trinket they had or personality traits, not an analysis of the seating plan. I forget she's a tactician, so in hindsight it makes sense that she'd take stock of the positions of important people and possible threats. Also, she confirmed that she intentionally took the corner seat to watch the room.

"Also." She murmurs in a more quiet voice. From the way she glances at the other bunk (we're playing on our bed right now). "That guy that was talking to us near the end?"

"Yeah?"

"He was glancing at Noire the whole night. I'm pretty sure he was going to hit on her and then chickened out when I replied rather than her." Morgan whispers. "Not that I think he was any particular threat, he was just interested, but still. Noire knew she would attract more attention than the rest of us, and she'd be unhappy to know she was right."

"What do you mean she'd attract more attention?" I whisper back.

Morgan raises an eyebrow. Rather than say something, she gestures towards her chest, makes a cupping motion, then subtly towards Noire. Even I'm not stupid enough to mistake what she means, and in hindsight it's obvious. Noire is easily the most physically attractive of all of us (at least by common standards), so of course she'd attract more attention. Morgan was specifically referring to the fact that Noire is busty, but in hindsight that was really obvious and I just wasn't thinking. I nod to show my understanding.

Morgan wins the game to the surprise of exactly no one, and with the sound of footsteps and the ship's crew going to sleep, we collectively decide it's time to turn in.

###

Normally I'd wake up well after Morgan, but it's a bit hard to stay asleep with her crawling over me to get out of bed. That's not really a problem though. I might sleep for ten hours, but I only really need six, so when she says she's going to get breakfast I follow along.

Kjelle's bed is empty, she must already be up. Probably training. Noire, as expected, is still sound asleep.

The mess room is much less crowded than it was at dinner, probably because some people are already working. I have to watch my step as I move through the room due to the swaying of the ship. It's a lot more noticeable today than it was yesterday. Morgan's balance is much better than mine. I think it might be because she's less top-heavy, or maybe it's her combat training.

Everything is a lot less noisy now too. There's generally less talking… maybe because people are hungover. Actually, that's probably it now that I think about it more.

"You know." Morgan says through a mouthful of food. "It-" she swallows, realizing she can't talk like that. "It occurs to me that we never asked about the island. I have a few guesses, but asking around couldn't hurt. We want to know what we're getting into."

"Right."

"Though I can make a few guesses from last night." Morgan adds. "That guy who talked to us mentioned expensive boats to the island, so I'm going to guess the island is a real rich person's place. I mean, that's the reason I got us a ride on a supply ship. All the other rides were really expensive."

"This is a supply ship?"

"Yeah, what did you think it was?"

"Uh…" I actually have no idea. "I didn't give it that much thought."

Morgan rolls her eyes, amused.

"But an expensive getaway place huh? Is this like a resort?" I muse.

"A what?"

"A resort."

"What's a resort?"

"Vacation place, generally with lodging and entertainment and activities and such."

"I'm pretty sure that doesn't exist in this world." Morgan says. "I meant more that I think rich people have homes or cottages here or something like that."

"Oh." I mumble. "That makes a lot more sense." Something then occurs to me. "Hey… I've mentioned how Nah's paralogue goes before, right?"

"Something about her walking around in a Risen-infested manor."

"Yeah, and that supports the idea that the island is a rich place. There's at least one manor on it."

"True." Morgan nods. "I have to wonder how Nah got into an abandoned manor though."

"Who says it's abandoned beforehand?" I offer.

"Ahh…" Morgan's brow furrows in consideration. "That's true. That might make finding her more complicated too if we can't find that manor as a starting point."

"Assuming she's even around there at the moment. She might be wandering the island." I add. "Who knows how long she was in the manor before the Shepherds arrived in her paralogue. It might be a week, it might be less than an hour."

"That's true." Morgan says. "Okay, so we'll have to find some other search method."

"And what method might that be?"

"I don't know." She shrugs. "I'll think of something."

###

Me and Morgan come up on deck to find an odd sight. Kjelle is apparently up here, and she has some sailor pinned to the deck while several others cheer her on. Even the captain is listening to the spectacle with a smirk on his face.

"Should I be surprised Kjelle got into a fight so quickly?" I whisper to Morgan.

"I'm surprised it took this long to begin with!" She says cheerfully. "I was expecting this to happen yesterday!"

Morgan moves over to the captain and I follow behind, casting nervous glances at the… wrestling match(?) going on a little ways down deck.

"So, who pissed her off?" Morgan asks the man eagerly. Pulls herself up onto a barrel and kicks her legs. "Or did she anger someone else?"

"She was trainin'." The captain chuckles. "One o' the lads had the bright idea to challenge her to a spar, thinkin' it would be an easy way to impress her."

"He thought it would be an easy win?" Morgan snickers.

"Yep. I told him otherwise, so this is all on him." The captain says. "This is the closest fight it's been, from what I was told she almost threw knocked 'im overboard when they were usin' weapons."

If this is the closest fight so far, the other ones must have been total curbstomps. Kjelle is half this guy's height and not nearly as muscular as him, but she's got him face-down on the deck while she sits on his waist and has his arms forced behind his back. The expression on his face is a cross between furious and a sneering smile.

I think she's having fun. Fun in the self-righteous noob-stomping sort of way, but fun. To each their own I suppose.

"By the way, where are the nervous ones?" The captain asks. "The men are curious. They've been wantin' to talk to all of ya since yesterday, but I told 'em to hold 'emselves back for a bit. Ain't gonna last the whole week though."

"The nervous one? You mean Noire?"

"And the boy. Yer partner."

"Uhh…" I mumble. "I'm here."

"Ah, you're quiet boy."

Not really. I think everyone else is just noisy.

"You might have to do some talkin' today. Just to let ya know."

"Noted." I say quietly. That doesn't sound fun.

We all watch (or listen to in the captain's case) the wrestling match for another minute until the poor sailor taps out. Then Morgan speaks again. "Hey, Nathan."

"Yeah?"

"Should I try? I want to try."

I'm confused. "Try what?"

"Sparring, wrestling! I wanna see how it'll go! I've never tried wrestling."

"That… doesn't sound like something you'll win."

"You'd be surprised!" Morgan chirps. "I'm gonna do it."

"Go ahead…?" She doesn't need my permission. She was probably going to do that regardless of my response. Why is she dragging this out?

She turns and looks at me for a second. This feels like another one of those moments where I'm missing something she thinks is extremely obvious. I can't think of what that would be though. Am I supposed to be concerned for her safety?

"You don't see a problem, do you?"

"No…?"

"Letting your girlfriend wrestle with burly men?"

Oh, okay. I guess it was the danger. "I mean, it's not like you're in danger here, so…"

Morgan stares again, then smiles and randomly gives me a hug. I awkwardly return the gesture, not exactly sure what it's about. "I'm glad you're not the jealous type."

Oh. That's what she meant by letting her wrestle with burly men. Okay, again, in hindsight that was obvious. How often do I miss things this obvious? "I'm not about to try and dictate what you can and can't do. Do what you want regardless of what I say."

"I wouldn't go that far." Morgan says. "Your opinion isn't irrelevant, I was just happy you weren't going to be petty about it."

"Right." I made this too serious again, didn't I? "Have fun."

"I will! Hold my coat." She quickly slides out of her coat and hands it to me. "I'm gonna wrestle someone to the ground, just you watch!"

I take and carefully fold her coat. I can feel bulges and hard places where she has things stored in the pockets. Hopefully there's nothing too delicate in there. "Sure. I'll have a vulnerary ready when that inevitably doesn't happen."

"Just you wait, I'm to prove you wrong. I'm going to win because I'm a genius." Morgan brags.

"And genius has always been the deciding factor in tests of strength." I reply sarcastically. It's also occurring to me that I've almost never seen Morgan without her coat on. It's nothing remarkable, she still has her baggy beige shirt and pants on as well as her boots, but it's something I haven't really seen before. It never really occurred to me how thin she was. The belt around her hips gives me an idea of her actual size because it's tight to her body, and I could probably fit my hands around her waist if the belt is any indication. Also, her arms are pretty thin too. Not stick-thin, but there's not a lot of meat on them. I could probably make a ring around her forearm with my pointer and thumb.

It's also occurring to me that if she's thin now, who knows how thin she might have been beforehand. We still don't know if she came from a bad future or not, so I have no idea if she's recovering from malnourishment and that's why she's so thin or just because she's naturally small. Also, my perspective of her size is very skewed by my new body. Maybe she's a lot more normal than I think and it's just because everyone looks smaller than I'm used to from my old body that she looks really thin.

"She's an eager one, ain't she?" The captain says.

It takes me a moment to realize he's talking to me. I nod silently, remember he's blind, then say "Ah, uh, yeah. She is. No fear."

"I can tell that. From what Rory, that's my second, told me she was starin' people down all last night."

"From what I'm aware she was just reading the room." I say honestly.

"Maybe so. It was just a guess from Rory." The captain shrugs.

With Kjelle's fight over, Morgan walks straight into the middle of the group and, without any preamble, chirps "I want to fight too!"

The reaction to that is mixed. Some sailors scoff, some laugh, and some elbow each other and mutter something while grinning. I'm fairly sure most of them think Morgan is being ridiculous. Once they're done laughing or whatever, one of the sailors steps forward with a smile on his face that I can only describe as haughty. "If you're really sure about it girl, I'll happily play with ya."

You'd think after Kjelle thoroughly mopped the floor with them that they'd be less overconfident. Also, "play" with her? How patronizing.

"So, is Albinus going to lose?" The captain asks as Morgan and the sailor set the terms of the match. No weapons, no eye gouging or permanent injuries, otherwise anything goes. First one to surrender or be put in a position where they can't escape for more than ten seconds loses.

"Well…" As much as I joked that Morgan was going to lose, I've sparred with her before, even unarmed, and she's always won. "Does he have any combat training?"

"Not really."

"Yeah he's screwed." Morgan holds back when she spars with me for the purposes of teaching, so if she doesn't have to hold back she's probably going to win this. It's not a wrestling match like I expected. If this was a wrestling match then Morgan might lose, but in a hand-to-hand fight against someone untrained I expect her to kick ass.

The fight takes a few minutes, though that's only because both sides are toying with the other. Morgan spends the first five seconds after the match starts studying her opponent, and Albinus, being cocky, waits with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow. When Morgan suddenly takes a step forward he scoffs and slowly unfolds his arms… which gives Morgan the time to kick him sharply in the side of the stomach.

Albinus grunts in surprise and swings an arm to try and bat Morgan away, and Morgan promptly grabs him by the wrist and twists his arm in response to such a clumsy attack.

That gets a yelp and a growl out of the sailor and he actually starts trying to a certain extent. He kicks and punches to get Morgant to let go (which Morgan does, though she seems amused as she does it. I think she's toying with him because she's realized he doesn't actually know how to fight). As soon as she does he takes a step back while grabbing his wrist, then (probably realizing that everyone is watching him and snickering) he straightens up and says "so you actually know what you're doing, huh? I suppose I'll have to start trying."

"Oh good, I was feeling a bit underwhelmed!" Morgan says cheerfully. "I was expecting a fight, not a training dummy."

The man's expression darkens a bit, and an angry smile crosses his face. "You'll get a fight if you want it."

Morgan waits for her foe to attack. Albinus rushes forwards and stretches his arms out, going for some sort of grab, and Morgan effortlessly ducks under one of his arms and trips him with her leg. He falls hard to the floor, and Morgan says. "So, when exactly were you going to start trying? Should I wait a moment, or…?"

Albinus is silent as he rolls to his feet and lets fly a series of punches at the girl. Morgan calmly dodges and deflects his flailing arms without any sort of counter attack for a few seconds.

"Oh, is this what you meant?" She asks, feigning disappointment. "Well, if that's all, then I suppose I should fight back."

"Don't mock me you little-" Albinus is cut short by Morgan snapping out a jab that hits his throat and sends him staggering back, weezing, until he falls onto his butt. He's still gasping for breath while Morgan walks up and calmly plants a foot on his chest, forcing him fully to the ground.

"So, anyhow, you lose." Morgan says calmly. She glances up at everyone watching, some of them are laughing and some of them look genuinely surprised. Kjelle is nodding approvingly with a smirk on her face. She then looks to me, smiles widely, and waves an arm. "See Nathan? I won! Because I'm a genius!"

It had nothing to do with you being a genius. Albinus was incompetant. However I say something simple to respond because I don't want to be snarky or sarcastic when there are other people listening. Besides, she was still rather impressive. "Indeed you did. Good job Morg."

Morgan looks like she's going to say something else, but apparently Albinus decided he wasn't done yet despite having clearly lost. With his breath (mostly) regained he grabs Morgan by the leg and pulls it out from under her. "You- You bitch. Did you think I would-"

He's cut short again because Morgan doesn't really care if he has time to say his bit or not. As soon as she's pulled to the ground she uses her other leg to plant a kick squarely in his face, and she grabs one of his fingers that are holding her leg and starts to harshly pull it backwards, forcing him to release her so he can pull away or risk her breaking it.

"Albinus!" The captain barks, but it's unnecessary. Within two seconds there are six pairs of hands on the sailor pulling him away, and Kjelle is looming over him with her spear, her actual one, held in her hand.

I shrink back as the captain stomps forward to yell at Albinus, who now has blood on his face. Morgan returns to me looking rather unaffected. She's smiling in fact. I silently hand her back her coat and she slips it back on while saying "I think that went rather well!"

"Sure."

"You're freaking out, aren't you?"

"Only slightly. It's not me who just broke someone's nose."

"His finger actually. That blood is from his lip." She says cheerfully. "You'd be surprised how much power solid boots can add to a kick. I think I might have hit the right spot to chip a tooth or two!"

"Uh, right." Okay, there's her sadism. Guess the game wasn't totally inaccurate about that.

"Anyhow, I don't expect we'll have any issues from now on." Morgan hums. "We can tell Noire she doesn't have to be so worried."

There were probably better ways to stop people from hitting on her, but I guess this works too. "Sure."

"You have no idea what to say, do you?"

"Not really."

"So." The captain's voice cuts in as he walks over to us. I can't read his expression. "Normally I'd apologize, but you sound mighty pleased with yerself lass. Somethin's tellin' me that went accordin' to a plan o' yours."

"Pretty much." Morgan says, unabashed. "I didn't expect to take it that far, but I was trying to make a point."

The captain crosses his arms. "Well consider it made. None of the boys want anythin' to do with you after that. I'll thank you to not intentionally start a real fight next time though."

"I won't. It shouldn't be necessary." Morgan says, still sounding quite smug and not at all apologetic.

The captain shakes his head and walks off. That could have gone better, but at least we didn't get punished for it.

"Morgan." I mutter as we move to the front of the ship. "Did you only take that fight to make a point?"

"Pretty much." Morgan hums.

Right. Just say it. "So you lied to me."

Morgan straightens, her grin faltering. "What?"

"You told me that you wanted to try wrestling, not that you were planning on making a point." I murmur.

"Ah, well I figured you'd be nervous about that so I didn't mention it. I was actually hoping to wrestle and make a point, but making a point came first." Morgan explains. Her hands are out in front of her, gesturing as she speaks. She doesn't normally do that.

"Right." I frown. "So not a lie?"

"An omission." She admits.

"Okay." I'm not trying to make this a big deal. I need to just speak my mind rather than dancing around the issue I see. "I'd rather you tell me outright next time what your plan is, or at least tell me that you don't want to tell me. It's not a big deal this time, but in the future, especially if something involves me…"

"Right." Morgan says rather quietly. "Sorry."

I hope I'm not making a big deal out of something that didn't happen. She didn't lie to me exactly, she just didn't explain her motives. Maybe it's too much to ask that she confides her plans in me. Maybe that was an unreasonable ask. Fuck. "Again, you don't have to tell me, just… no deception towards me please. Just making this clear now in case it's important in the future."

"Got it." Morgan nods.

"I-I hope that doesn't sound unreasonable-"

"No, it makes sense." Morgan agrees. "It's not unreasonable to ask me to be trustworthy Nathan."

"Ah, good." My heart beat slows down. I didn't realized my adrenaline had started to pump until it starts to wear off. "What exactly was the plan anyways? Did you encourage him to fight you specifically, or…?"

"Nah. Anyone would have been fine. Kjelle already proved she was strong, so I just wanted to knock someone around." Morgan explains. "So if both of us proved that we shouldn't be messed with, then the sailors would be unlikely to bother Noire because they'd assume she was strong too."

"That makes a certain amount of sense." I agree. "I didn't realize you were worried about that still."

"Not worried exactly. Noire could handle herself." Morgan shrugs. "But if it makes things easy on her, I might as well, right?"

"Yeah." I nod. "Though maybe you shouldn't tell her you broke someone's finger for her sake."

"Maybe not." Morgan agrees.

A few hours later Kjelle complains that no one wants to spar with her anymore, and we both feign ignorance. Nobody talks to us at dinner that night.

###

The crew now treats Morgan with caution, and honestly she seems to enjoy it. She has no problem with walking right up to them and asking something, even if they're gathered in a group, without a hint of trepidation. It's impressive, at least for me, to watch her march right up to a group of ten large men who probably don't like her very much, get right up in their personal space, and ask some simple question with her nose slightly turned up at them, get a curt answer, then strut away without any sort of shame. She knows she intimidates them and is throwing her weight around a bit.

The crew have softened a bit on Kjelle as she genuinely just wants to spar and hasn't been getting up in their faces, and they treat Noire politely (as politely as they know how) but distantly, apparently taking the approach that they don't know if she'll be like Kjelle or Morgan and don't want to take their chances.

Noire is relieved, though I don't think anyone told her why the crew now avoids her.

As for how the crew treats me, well…

Usually I stick with Morgan. There really isn't much to do on the ship, so naturally we're in each other's company all the time. That means I've never actually interacted with any of the crew one-on-one except for the Captain, and with Morgan around they've obviously been more focused on her than me.

However, the one moment Morgan isn't around (we were having lunch, and she stepped out to use the restroom) one of the crew immediately marches straight over to me, obviously having been waiting for just the moment when Morgan wasn't around, plants his hands on the table, and leans over me with a deep scowl on his face.

"Listen 'ere ya bastard." He growls. "You can't be lettin' yer girl run amok like these. All of 'em! You let 'em fight and walk 'round wherever they want without any sort o' discipline!"

Yeah, sure. I doubt you had a problem before Morgan wrecked Albinus. You probably would have been more than happy to spar with her or have a chance to talk with her. It's only now that she intimidates you that there's a problem. I could take the antagonistic route and say "what? Scared of a little girl?" but that seems like a bad idea, I'm too much of a coward, and honestly they have a good reason to be wary of Morgan. Instead I say "I'm not in charge of Morgan. Actually, she's in charge of our little group, so if anything she's in charge of me."

"You let a little girl order you around?" He sounds disgusted, or maybe disappointed? His scowl has turned to an ugly sneer. "What? Are you a servant?"

"Well no…" My voice is quavering. I hate confrontation.

"So you're just pathetic then." The man scoffs. He leans even closer. His face is probably only a few inches away. "Look. Man up and keep that bitch under control, or we will."

"Oh really?" Morgan's voice, cheerful and amused and probably fake, cuts through the air. The man instantly turns his head around to locate her, only to find that she's right next to him and leaning in just as close to his face as he is to mine. I hadn't even noticed that Morgan had returned. I do notice she not-so-subtly has one hand on her sword though. "Keep me under control, hmm? Do tell me how, I'd be more than happy to have another fight. The last one was so unsatisfying. If you want to volunteer to spar I'd more than welcome another round."

The man's jaw works as he tries to find the right words to say. He shoves off the table and tries to loom over Morgan, and she replies by taking a calm step towards him to which he instantly takes a step back, ruining his attempt at intimidation and solidifying Morgan's.

"Look." Morgan says with a smile on her face and ice in her voice. "If you have a problem with me, you talk to me. If you scare my boyfriend again, I will go into your room at night and chop off your dick. Understood?"

That certainly gets a reaction out of everyone in the room. There were some other sailors in the room that were listening in that stiffen in their seats, and the man who threatened me visibly flinches. There's silence in the room for a minute, then the man gathers his nerve and starts speaking, only for his voice to quickly raise to a shout. "I don't know who ya think ya are that you can just come onto our ship and start pushin' us around, but we ain't gonna put up with that! I don't care if the captain let's ya get away with it, we'll throw you overboard before putin' up with your shit for a second longer!"

"So you try and get Nathan to keep me in line?" Morgan scoffs. She stands up straight, completely unfazed, and looks down her nose at the man. "Like I said before, if you have a problem with me, talk with me. We can sort it out. Don't think you can get away with threatening someone's companions and get away with it. Don't pretend you have some sort of moral high ground here."

"Oh sure, talk!" The man snaps. "Like you gave Alb the chance to talk before breakin' a finger! Don't lie to me! You wouldn't give us a chance!"

"Oh, is that it?" Morgan sneers outright, abandoning her calm facade. "Conveniently forgetting that he attacked me when the fight was over, are we? How short your memory is for things that don't suit you."

"That's not what this is about!"

"Isn't it? You just brought up that I broke his finger." Morgan leans forward into his personal space again, though this time the man doesn't/ back down so they remain nose-to-nose.

"You've been pushin' us around all day." The man growls back. "That's what this is about."

"I've been keeping you in your place." Morgan says with a savage smile. "Because you might all be big, but I proved that you're all just thugs who rely on intimidation to get what you want, and as soon as you find someone who actually knows how to fight then you're just weak."

"We are not!"

Morgan's hand goes to her sword, and he backsteps. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I- look here." He growls. "I don't know what your problem is. You were starin' us down well before that fight when we didn't do nothin'."

"Don't think I didn't notice you all staring at Noire before." Morgan says. "She was nervous. She was obviously nervous, yet one of you tried to hit on her the very first night."

"He was drunk." The man says in exasperation. "Besides, this is our ship, we can get drunk on it if we want to! You paid to be here when you coulda taken another ship! We're a shippin' vessel, we don't usually take people across! If we ain't the picture o' politeness that's your damn problem! We don't work on 'ere to act all polite, your fuckin' highness!"

Silence again falls over the room as the two of them stare each other down. I'm still watching from the sidelines, desperately hoping this will be over soon. I don't know if I should try and defuse the situation or maybe pull Morgan away, or if that would just make things worse. I don't necessarily think either side is totally innocent. Morgan has been throwing her weight around and intentionally antagonizing the crew, and this guy does have a point that it's unreasonable to expect them to change everything they're doing just because us four came aboard, but at the same time drunkenness is not an excuse for poor behaviour nor was Albinus taking a cheap shot when the fight was already over acceptable.

Actually, that one guy that tried to flirt wasn't all that bad. Morgan cut him off before he really had the chance to say anything to Noire, but considering his introductory ramble he was actually rather polite about it. It's not a crime to flirt. He chose an unbelievably bad target at a very poor time, but… well, I've been oblivious before. Who's to say he wasn't as well? So the real problem is Albinus, and any leering that might have happened (not that I would know, I was avoiding looking at anyone).

It's occurring to me now that this whole situation was basically set up for a conflict to happen. All four of us assumed there was poor intention from the crew without confirming anything, and then Morgan jumped at the chance to punish negative behaviour and extrapolate Albinus' negative attitude to be the attitude of the whole crew and accordingly treated them as dangers to be kept in their place.

At least, that's what I think happened. I'm also usually awful at reading situations, so I could be very wrong. It also doesn't help me figure out what to do at the moment.

Thankfully, I don't have to do anything, because the captain is here. I think he might have been here for a bit, he was just letting the two of them shout each hoarse (or maybe he was listening to both sides) before he stepped in. "Alright you two, sit down."

"Captain-!" They both say at the same time, with obvious pleading in their voice for intervention on their half. The hard furrow to his brow stops them in their tracks, and both the man and Morgan do as he says and sit.

"Look here." The captain sighs. He too takes a seat. He first points to Morgan. "You have intentionally been intentionally causin' trouble, pushin' around my crew, and you been doin' in when I outright told ya not to."

"But-" Morgan tries to protest, but the captain holds up a hand.

"I know you have reasons. You feel like you gotta protect the shy ones." The captain says. "But I don't care at the moment. You ain't been goin' about it well." He then points to the other man. "And you, and Albinus I s'pose. I already talked with 'im. I told all o' you to keep your opinions in check, and yet Rory been tellin' me that you all been laughing and jokin' behind my back about our passengers, or makin' unsavory comments 'bout the ladies, and you know what I think about that. I don't want to hear ya defendin' Albinus either. He went to far and got punished, plain an' simple. "

The man cringes in his seat, looking appropriately ashamed.

"I'm gonna talk with the rest o' the crew 'bout this too." The captain says. "But I expect y'all, both sides 'ere, to stop trying to start a fight an' to stop tryin' to scare the other, got it? No more pushin' the crew 'round lass, and Jarvin, if I hear 'bout you threatenin' one o' the passengers again, 'specially one who wasn't even part o' this problem, I'm throwin' you off the ship meself."

"Yes Captain." The man, Jarvin, says quickly.

"Fine…" Morgan grumbles. The captain crosses his arms, and I frown and nudge Morgan, and she reluctantly complies by saying: "Yes Captain."

"Good. Now I don't want to hear any more complaints for the rest o' the trip from either side, got it?" The captain warns. He then gets up and grabs his staff. "Jarvin."

"Y-Yes Captain?"

"Pass on what I said to the rest o' the crew."

"Yes Captain!"

Jarvin quickly flees the room as soon as the Captain leaves. Me and Morgan silently finish our food and drink before returning to our own room.

As soon as we're safely in our room (alone actually. Noire is up on deck with Kjelle, practicing with her dagger). Morgan speaks.

"I guess the captain isn't as nice as he first looked." She huffs. "Letting his crew get away with whatever they want for only a slap on the wrist, and then trying to scold me for it? Rude."

"Not… really." I say hesitantly. "In my opinion he was rather lenient on both sides. You're not all in the right here either."

"What?" Morgan doesn't sound indignant exactly, just surprised. I think she expected me to agree with her.

"You have been bullying the crew." I remind her. "Maybe Albinus deserved part of what he got, and even then you arguably went too far by breaking his finger, and I appreciate you coming to my defence just now, but overall you haven't exactly been nice to them."

"They were scaring Noire!"

"That's partially just because Noire is really shy though." I remind her. "I'm not saying not to defend her, but you've been treating all of them, even the people who haven't done anything, like they're beneath you."

"So you agree with the captain?" Morgan huffs.

"I… yes." I admit reluctantly. "Yeah, I do."

"Auuuugh." Morgan flops back onto the bed. "Fuck." She throws up her hands. "Fuck!"

"It's not that bad. You got off light."

"Yeah." Morgan grumbles. "But I felt like I was doing the right thing."

"Well I'd hope so, or else you were just being an ass for no reason at all."

"You're my boyfriend, aren't you supposed to take my side?" Morgan complains.

"I'm pretty sure that's not how it works."

"Yeah I know." She sighs. "I'm just bitter."

I speak before I think. "Hi Bitter."

Morgan rolls her eyes to the ceiling. "Really?"

"Right, sorry." I say with a straight face. "Hi Just Bitter."

A small laugh, more of a huff, exits Morgan's mouth and she groans right after. "Why am I laughing at that?"

"Because you have extremely low standards." I offer, now smiling. "And because you're slightly stressed."

"Yeah yeah…"

###

"So, Nathan."

"Hmm?"

"You had a family, right? I mean, obviously to some extent, but…"

"Parents, three younger brothers." I say quietly.

"What were they like?"

"Mom had high-paying jobs. Most recently she was chief compliance officer of a major investment firm. Think… like a bank. Not exactly like that, but sorta. Dad stayed at home raising us." I say. "Good with making things, and knows how to do electrical stuff. Never got a licence for it or anything, but there have been times when he's known more about what to do in a situation than actual electricians."

"And your brothers."

"Brats. Same with me actually. The one just below me is egotistical, and not in a fun way. He thinks everything is a joke and he can get away with being a dick because he assumes it's funny to everyone. He's gotten better over time, but it's never gone away." I say. "The one just under him I get along with best. We used to play together a lot. Board games, video games… we've drifted over time. He's also better than me at most things now. The youngest is weird. Has an attention disorder, couldn't read properly until he was ten, always copies us and refuses to admit that's what he's doing. Refuses to admit he's wrong in arguments as well. A real pain in the ass sometimes, but he's gotten better over time as well."

"Do you miss them?"

"My parents sure. My brothers… less so. I miss them more in the sense that I know they'll still be sad I'm gone and I don't like that, but it's not like I interacted much with them anymore." I say quietly. "My biggest problem is just that they don't know I'm alright. Being here would be a lot more tolerable if I knew my family knew I was alright or… or if they'd forgotten me because of weird magic, that would also make this better."

"Really?" Morgan sounds genuinely surprised.

"I mean, it would suck if they didn't know me, but I wouldn't have to worry about them anymore." I say quietly.

"You want closure."

"Yeah."

"Hopefully you'll be able to get it. Though I'm not exactly sure how." Morgan admits reluctantly. "We'll find some sort of magic, or… something."

"Yeah." I say again, still quiet. "Thanks."

I think Morgan feels bad about asking at all judging by how quiet she becomes herself, so I lean into her a bit to show there's no hard feelings.

###

"So…" I say at dinner one night as a thought creeps into my head. It's nothing important, I'm just curious. "What do you all plan to do when we get to Ylisstol eventually? Aside from finding your parents obviously."

"Oh, I want clothes!" Morgan chirps instantly. "I mean, I love my coat and all, but it would be nice to have something less warm, and also something more flattering because my coat is pretty bulky."

"How impractical." Kjelle scoffs.

"Hey, just because you're an ape who doesn't care about looks doesn't mean we all are." Morgan shoots back. "Anyhow… clothes would be nice, but I also want some more reading material, and maybe another board game would be nice. Oh, and I want to see a play! I remember Father taking me to a play once, I want to see another."

"I-I want to see the palace." Noire mumbles. "I never got to see it in our world. Brady told me it has all sorts of tapestries and colored glass windows. He… well he actually said it was big and borning, but it sounds cool to me. I also wouldn't mind getting some clothes I'm more used to."

"So what I'm hearing is that we're going to have a group shopping trip for clothes!" Morgan says cheerfully.

"You can shop for clothes. I don't need any." Kjelle huffs. "I want to find a blacksmith that will take custom orders for a new spear, and I could use some javelins for the future."

"Come on. Your outfit is just basic cloth." Morgan says, gesturing to what Kjelle is currently wearing. "You don't want any new clothes? None at all? Not something more comfy, or something that looks more impressive and important?"

"Well…"

"Aha!" Morgan smiles smugly. "You do! You want some!"

Kjelle folds her arms. "I'm not coming with you to get them."

"Aww c'mon… are we really that scary?" Morgan teases.

"You're annoying, not scary."

"You just know I'm going to look fantastic and don't want me to show you up."

"That is not it." Kjelle growls. "I don't care about that shit."

"Then you can come with us!" Morgan says triumphantly.

"No."

"Killjoy." Morgan pouts. Then she looks at me. "So what about you Nathan? What are you going to do?"

"Uh…" I blink. I hadn't considered that. "Probably also get new clothes so I don't look like a brigand. Start looking into the outrealm portal. Also… probably look at board games too. I doubt they'll be as good as back home, but there might be something fun."

"You just think our world sucks, don't you?" Kjelle asks accusingly.

"Yeah, pretty much." I say honestly. "Transportation is inconvenient and slow, entertainment is extraordinarily limited and often underwhelming, heating is inefficient and ineffective, there's no such thing as AC, it's hard to get access to information because the internet doesn't exist… yeah, this world kinda sucks compared to Earth, or at least compared to Canada. I mean, there are still some places on Earth that are real shitshows, but where I came from is not one of them."

"You better learn to like if you're going to be stuck here." Kjelle sneers.

"Oh I'll learn to live with it. But that will just mean I've lowered my standards, not that this world is any better than I thought it was." I shoot back.

Kjelle's face contorts in disgust. I imagine she's feeling insulted at the moment, but I'm not backing down on this. This world does suck compared to Earth. It's not the worst thing ever, it could be even more primitive, but it is flat-out worse. Yes, I'm speaking from a place of privilege here; my experience is upper-middle class on Earth so being reduced to medieval standards is that much more of a downgrade compared to someone already used to less-than-pleasant conditions, especially considering I was a shut-in that didn't deal with the outdoors where the outdoors is mandatory in medieval times, but that doesn't make the fact that this world is worse any less true, just more jarring for me specifically. By this point I've more-or-less gotten used to the inconveniences of this world, but being used to them doesn't make them any less unpleasant.

I also imagine if I ever had to live without Morgan this world would be that much more annoying, because she's been my replacement for the constant distraction the internet provided. I can't listen to songs or play video games all the time, but I can talk and play games with Morgan.

"You might not like this world, but you can't complain about the people in it, hmm?" Morgan asks with a grin. "You wouldn't insult your own girlfriend, would you?"

"I mean, you did give me permission." I say cheekily.

"No flirting at the table." Kjelle snaps. "I swear to Naga…"

Morgan promptly leans over and wraps her arms around one of mine and rests her head on my shoulder. She sticks out her tongue as Kjelle fumes, and I decide to join in and stroke Morgan's hair with my other hand while keeping a flat expression as I gaze towards Kjelle.

"I hate you both."

Morgan blows a kiss and winks.

Chapter Text

"But I had the center of the board." I mumble. "You stuck to the sides the entire time. The middle is supposed to be better."

"Well yeah, but you held the center at the expense of attack venues." Morgan points out. "Like, you may have had all your strong pieces in the middle, but I could get my rooks to your backline to bother your king. It doesn't help to hold the middle if you don't take advantage of it. Your bishops in the front were also hampering the ability of your rooks to actually threaten my center, so with my pawns walling your bishops, you were effectively paralyzed. Also, the fact that I didn't kill your pawns in the middle meant they were also in the way of your attacks too. I jammed up the middle exactly because you were so obviously going for it, sacked my 1 and 8 pawns, then ran my rooks down the side and smashed your king."

"Ah." I frown. "Stop being so smart."

"Hey, you're getting better. You did manage to take the center this time. Usually I snatch it, but you walled me out early on this time, despite the fact that you started second." She pauses, then adds. "Why do you always play black? You said yourself that it puts you at a disadvantage."

"I just like the color black." I admit sheepishly. "That's literally it. There's no other reason. I think as a consequence of always playing black I basically don't know how to do offence, because I'm always reacting rather than acting."

"That sounds about right." Morgan nods. She starts putting the pieces back into place for another game, so I help. "Maybe you should start playing white then."

"But black is cool…" I whine jokingly with a smirk.

"Fine, then you just go first."

"Okay, I can get behind that." I nod. "I get black~!"

She rolls her eyes, smiling herself. "It's just a color."

"The best color." I correct her. "I mean, technically it's not a color at all. True black is actually an absence of color entirely, like outer space. Black paint and all that is actually just another really dark color."

"Really? So what's white?"

"I can't remember exactly." I frown. "It's also not technically a color. They're both shades. Something light enough that it no longer resembles it's "base" color so to speak. I think it might also be every visible color at once, but don't quote me on that. I was much more interested in black then white."

"No really." She says sarcastically. "We've only played hundreds of games of chess and you've been white maybe ten times."

"You're just jealous I take the best color."

"Best? Pff. The best is purple." Morgan says, patting the designs on her coat. "Black is a close second, but purple is where it's at."

"Red is second. Purple is third." I file away Morgan's preferences for the future.

"Red? It's like I don't even know you anymore!" Morgan gasps.

"Who says you do? You still don't believe that this is an elaborate kidnapping attempt, which it totally is." I say flatly.

"Sure, sure."

"My point exactly."

"Your move by the way."

"Ah." I gaze at the chess board with all the pieces in their starting positions. "Shit."

"Already? You haven't even moved yet."

"I know." I mumble. "I'll just do the theoretically solid thing." I move my king's pawn forward two spaces. The standard e4 move.

"How much chess theory do you actually know?" Morgan questions, and flicks her queen's pawn up one space.

"Not much. Just some basic concepts and that one specific move." I admit sheepishly. "I've looked into it more than that, but I can never remember what I learned."

"Are you bad at remembering things?"

"If by that you mean I never practice them enough to remember, then yes." I say. "Too frustrating to do all that repetition."

"But that's how you get better."

I raise my eyebrow. "And? Minor improvement at something rarely feels satisfying when you have to spend several hours, or maybe dozens of hours, being frustrated at the process of learning. The improvement ends up feeling pyrrhic, bittersweet. At least for me there's no satisfaction and no sense of accomplishment. I have relief that I don't have to deal with the frustrating process of learning anymore, but that rarely makes it feel like I've actually done something worth my time."

"So you hate work." She says flatly.

"Basically." I nod. "I could be doing something fun, or something neutral, or literally nothing, and it would feel better than working, because work is unsatisfying, frustrating, and usually unrewarding. You do it because you have to, or if you actually enjoy the work then it's not an issue because it's not really work anymore, but that's rarely the case."

"You're working right now. You're actually trying to attack." Morgan says, pointing at the board. We have been playing as we talk. "You're putting in effort to learn."

"Well yeah. I don't mind this because you're here." I say as I lose another piece. "You make this fun. If you weren't here and I was playing against a computer or something, this would just be annoying and any advancement would feel worthless because of that annoyance."

"You must have really hated school back on Earth then."

"You have no idea." I say flatly. "That's an understatement. I did, and still do, despise school. Well, homework at least. I don't mind working in class, and lectures… they're hit or miss but not too awful. It's really just homework that I hated, still hate, with a passion."

"And homework is how you actually learn things because it's repetition of the concepts, right?"

"Yep." I mutter. I can feel anger coiling in my gut just thinking about it, and I push that feeling down. Morgan is not at all responsible for this. It's just that even mentioning homework tends to annoy me. I really do hate it. "It's petty, but I can't change my own feelings. It's not as simple as choosing not to hate something. You can't do that. Your mind doesn't work that way for something you have such a deep-seated emotion towards."

"You could choose to feel an emotion towards something you didn't feel strongly towards in the first place?" Morgan blinks.

"To an extent. If you repeatedly tell yourself something and act accordingly, your subconscious will start to believe it and your conscious mind in turn will start to believe it."

"That's crazy." Morgan says in awe.

"Yeah. The mind is super weird." I say. "What was I talking about…?"

"Homework? Deep-seated emotion?"

"Right." I say, then sigh. "I… look, I'm just whining about actually having to do work. I'm aware that's what I'm doing, and if I have to work I will, I always did my homework, but that doesn't mean I despise it any less."

"Were you always this vocal about it to your family?" Morgan asks, amused.

"Yep. They got annoyed about it pretty quickly, and it took me a while before I stopped. I was a bad kid, at least in terms of not bitching about things."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't want them to think I became okay with it. I hated it, and I never wanted them to forget that because, at least when I was younger, I wanted a price. If they were going to make me do it, I wasn't going to let them forget I was miserable. I wasn't going to let them get away scott-free with making me do it. Like…" I gesture awkwardly as I try to think of an example. "Let's say you… work as a carpenter under a master."

"Okay."

"You hate hammering in nails. And I mean hate with a burning fucking passion."

"Got it."

"Your boss makes you do it every day."

"Okay."

"You don't get paid to do it."

"Right."

"So, you can stay quiet and suffer in silence, seething at the task while he goes about his day smiling and not caring that you're suffering, or you can exact your price and never let him forget that he's making you miserable so he's forced to confront that you're suffering. You don't let him get away with a clear conscious for intentionally making you unhappy." I pause to take a breath, because I'm actually breathing hard. I got too heated there, and over something so petty. "That used to be my mindset. It was hate. Vengeance. If they were going to slight me, I was going to slight them right back."

"And now? Or… at least before you left?" Morgan asks quietly. She's no longer smiling in amusement.

"Well, eventually I realized my parents and my school weren't just trying to spite me. Eventually meaning it took me until the middle of high school. Mid-teenage years. It's just the nature of work that working is terrible through no fault of the people who have to enforce it. Work sucks, not the people who direct it." I say. "So I don't hate work any less, but I know to direct my frustration at the task and not the people. Took me way longer than it should have to learn that lesson though. I'm still petty, but at least I'm not petty and spiteful. Not towards people at least. Now I mostly just avoid unnecessary work, and try to chop work up over time to make it more bearable."

"What? You stretch it out?" Morgan looks bewildered. "Why not do it all at once to get it out of the way?"

"Would you rather drink a vial of straight acid, or eat multiple lemons over a few hours while also being able to eat cookies in between those lemons?"

"I guess I can see that logic."

"I mean, you do what works for you. I just can't stand to have that much sustained misery at once. If getting it out of the way quickly feels better for you, do it."

We both fall into silence, gazing at our forgotten game. I realize my hands are shaking, and my face contorts into a snarl. Getting worked up over something so stupid, of course I would. I've always been petty, but this feels like a new low. I ranted about homework. Homework. I'm twenty-one and I ranted about homework like a thirteen year old.

I take a deep breath to steady myself. No need to make this worse. Calm down.

"Thanks for sharing with me." Morgan says quietly.

She's joking, right? I just ranted and she's saying thank you? "Morgan, you don't have to say that for my sake. That was childish of me."

"Well sure, but…" Morgan's hands grasp the air as she tries to convey her thoughts. "You ranted because you knew I'd listen, right?"

"Yeah." I wouldn't have done this in front of Noire or Kjelle. Well, unless they were deliberately antagonizing me about something related, in which case I might have ranted to make a point.

"And you feel better now that you got it all out, right?"

"I… yeah." I've never really gotten to throw out my thoughts about work to anyone. My parents would listen when I vent to a certain extent, but they tended to offer platitudes that I already knew and were generally patronizing. Rather than just letting me vent and get it out they felt the need to always try to make it a lesson, and a lesson I already know at that. I love my parents, don't get me wrong, but for some things they really just aren't good at listening.

"So I'm thanking you because basically you just showed that you trust me." Morgan says simply. "You were fully willing to be childish in front of me because you knew I wouldn't mock you for it."

That's a very optimistic way of looking at it.

"And in case you don't know, I kinda want you to trust me, you know, because we're sorta in a relationship here." Morgan says with a smile, starting to regain her usual cheer. "So thanks for sharing! I still think you're cute."

"I… ah…" What do I say to that? I just showed one of my worst sides and Morgan was just like "okay, cool, I still like you".

"And besides, you said yourself that you knew it was petty. It's not like you're espousing the virtues of laziness." Morgan chirps, then pauses, "You weren't, right?"

"No." I say. "I mean, I'd much prefer not to work if I can, I'm not going to go out of my way to do five hundred extra push ups to be a black belt five star ultra tier martial artist, but if the doctor says I got to do seventy a day then I'll do it without complaining. Do what you have to, because there's a reason why you have to do it and you're going to hurt yourself way more if you don't."`

"But you only do things you have to?" Morgan asks. She doesn't frown or tilt her head judgingly, she asks it like a neutral question.

"I…" I let out a sigh. "Usually, yes. It's a matter of the pros outweighing the cons, but unless it's absolutely necessary for me to do something or I actually enjoy that thing, that's a very rare occurrence."

"Because why would you put yourself through suffering for something that almost inevitably won't feel worth the effort?"

"Exactly." I admit. "It's extremely unproductive, but… I… I wish I enjoyed working. I really do. I would like nothing more than to feel satisfaction that minutes or hours or days of effort amounted to something, but usually it just ends up feeling like an empty accomplishment and the skill I improved or thing I created or job I completed is just a reminder of all that time I could have spent doing something I actually enjoyed was instead wasted on that." I go quiet for a few seconds, then say. "Sorry, this is still really petty. If I could make myself like work I would do it in a heartbeat."

"There has to be something you'll work for."

"I said I hate work, not that I won't work." I correct her. Heck, it's not even that I slack, I was considered an above-average employee at my job because I didn't get distracted and would do tasks other people didn't like to do. I may have hated the job, but the managers were genuinely nice and I wasn't about to make their life harder if I could avoid it because it's not their fault I don't like the job, and as mediocre a reason as that was to work it was more work ethic than could be attributed to half the other employees who sometimes didn't show up for shifts for stupid reasons.

Teenagers make terrible employees, especially when they have enough money that they don't technically need to work. It's sad that I of all people was considered a good employee just because I'd actually show up and actually do the fucking job. That's a rant for another time though. It's disappointing to know that there are people even more petty and self-centered than me.

So, again, I hate work, but I'm not about to half-ass that work when I do it. If you're going to do work, do it to a reasonable level or you'll just bring more trouble onto yourself.

"And it's more like certain conditions make me more willing to work." I muse. "Like right now, I don't mind working on my aggressive play because you're here to make it enjoyable. Work is much less awful when you have someone you like working with you."

"Ah, so you want someone to suffer with you." Morgan smirks.

"No, I want someone to talk with and to help me and that I can help in return. It's almost fun to do even menial tasks when there's someone else there alongside you." I say. "I… I could struggle over a philosophy paper on my own, talking at my computer screen as I struggle to figure out what the hell they're saying, or I could bounce off a friend who might have their own perspective so we can naturally pick apart the argument and have fun doing it. That's what I mean. Work and study don't have to be awful. As long as you have a little interest and a friend who will learn or work with you, it can be almost fun."

"Why didn't you do that in school if you hated it so much otherwise?"

"I didn't figure it out until just recently." I admit. "And I could never focus when I had friends around because I used to be extremely chatty. I also didn't really have any friends after high school which is when I started to sort of mature. We all parted ways and I never made new ones because I spent as little time at university as I could."

"Oh." Morgan says. "Uh… am I your only friend?"

I feel pathetic admitting this. "Yes."

"That's terrible! I'm setting the bar way too high!" Morgan says dramatically.

A tired smile creeps over my face. I'm not tired because I'm exasperated, I'm tired because I'm emotionally drained. I just gave a stupid rant and exposed the most pathetic part of myself. I think I have good reason to feel tired, but I indulge Morgan anyways. She deserves it. Anything for you Morgan. "You got that right. How will anyone ever compare to your genius?"

"Not just my genius. My personality, my incredible face, there's just no contest!" Morgan proclaims. "I'm sorry Nathan, the rest of your future friends will be playing second-fiddle to me."

"Well considering you're my girlfriend, I'd kinda hope so." I murmur. I didn't miss her wording. She has no doubt I will have more friends. That's reassuring. "Er, Morgan."

"Yeah?"

"Can I…" I hesitantly hold my hands out for a hug. I feel it's warranted. Wait, I should have just done it. Fuck. I made this awkward, didn't I?

"Woo!" Morgan leans forward enthusiastically, totally ignoring how she messes up our chess board as she squeezes me in a hug and I do the same in return.

"Thank you." I mumble, my voice muffled by her coat. "I've told you how great you are before, right?"

"Multiple times."

"Well you're great."

"Still true."

"The best." My voice cracks.

"Mm-hmm." She rubs my back. "And you're still cute."

"Ugh…" I wipe my eyes with one hand. "This has to stop being so one-sided at some point…"

"I'm sure I'll have an existential crisis over having no memory and coming from a different future than this world at some point." Morgan hums. "Catch me when that happens."

"I will." I say with as much force as my shaky, hoarse voice can manage. "But there has to be something I can do now…"

"I wouldn't mind a massage." She offers cheekily.

"Okay."

"I was joking."

"I'm not."

"You'll actually do that?"

"You just let me throw a temper tantrum with no judgement and you think I won't give a massage in return? Of course I will."

"Well when you put it that way…" Morgan chuckles. "Can I complain about something too while you're doing that?"

"Please do."

"Good, because getting chewed out by the captain was total bullshit." Morgan says, then pauses. "I mean, I know it wasn't actually, but-"

"You can vent." I reassure her. "It's fine. Besides, you admitted yesterday you knew you were in the wrong. We can separate logic from emotion here." That was kind of a vital part of my rant: hating something while understanding why it has to happen. I hate school, but I would never tell anyone not to go to school. Stay in school kids. It sucks ass, but it's necessary.

Morgan shrugs off her coat and lies down on her stomach on our bed while I put away the chess set. I'll spare you the exact details of her rant because it amounts to "they were being bastards and I was just sticking up for Noire and you!" and generally feeling indignant.

Just because someone deserved to get slapped and they knew they deserved to get slapped doesn't make that person any happier about getting slapped, if we want to use a metaphor. That's Morgan's situation. She knows she was in the wrong, but still feels annoyed and wants to let it out.

Thankfully Morgan's rant requires a lot less focus on my part, because I'm not sure I could handle another semi-philosophic debate at the moment. I nod and murmur at all the right points, but I mostly focus on trying to find the right amount of pressure to use with my hands. I've done this before, but that was with my old weak body where no matter how much force I used I was never really at risk of hurting the person I was touching. Not so anymore.

Also, Morgan has muscle. Logically I knew she would, because she regularly practices swordsmanship and still walks a fair amount despite me carrying her, but it's weird to actually feel that muscle on her back. When I look at her I usually just see her face and her coat, so I never actually see any of that muscle like I do with Kjelle or even Noire. Morgan's clothes are really bulky and loose so it hides her body well.

It isn't much, but it feels nice to actually do something for Morgan that isn't general compliments I'd be giving anyways. Small steps are better than no steps.

###

"The crew is still avoiding me." Morgan huffs. "Even though we're not on bad terms now."

"Well I wouldn't say that." I say. "Just because you're not actively against each other anymore doesn't mean they want you around."

"But I want to learn the game they're playing." She complains, gesturing to the small board in front of a few sailors. The board is full of circular indents and each player is in possessions of a number of small marked cylinders.

"Then ask."

"I have, but they won't tell me." Morgan complains.

"Because they don't like you?"

"Yeah."

"Ah, that would be a problem." I murmur.

"Why can't they just get over it?" Morgan huffs. "I have."

"You just spent half an hour complaining about how you don't trust any of them and were just protecting me and Noire." I remind her. "You're not over it either."

"Yes I am…"

"No, you're really not. Logically you might be, but emotionally you aren't, and emotion is often much more powerful than logic in informing our actions." I say.

Morgan grumbles under her breath, but she doesn't disagree.

"I suppose…" I say hesitantly. "I could ask them how to play, probably when you're not around, and then teach you afterwards."

"But you hate talking to strangers."

"Yeah. But if you want to know the game I'll do it." I mumble. I can already feel my anxiety starting to manifest as a tightness in my chest, but I ignore it for now.

"I mean…" Morgan says slowly, her brow furrowed. "If you feel like you can do it, I would like to know the game, but it's really not a big deal."

"Got it." So I'll do it. It's the very least I can do for Morgan. I wish it didn't give me intense anxiety to do it, but that's a price I can force myself to pay. Not at this very moment of course, because Morgan is still here and this plan literally revolves around her not being around. "When we get to Ylisse, or if we ever have enough time, maybe I can make more of the games from my world from us to play."

"What, you assume I just want to play games all the time?" Morgan huffs, feigning offence. "Because you're totally right. How many games do you know?"

"A few dozen at least. I can somewhat remember how a few dozen more work too."

"Good. Because I want to play all of them!"

Well if I'm going to be recreating dozens of games, I'm going to need to write stuff down before I forget. It's already been nearly half a year since I came to this world. I wouldn't be surprised if some memories are starting to slip.

I should get what I remember translated too. If I end up leaving this world by finding a way home, I want to leave certain things with Morgan for her to use. I want to leave my knowledge of Awakening, of course, but if she likes games I'd like to convey the rules and pieces for every game I can feasibly remember. That's a tall order, but I should be able to manage it… provided I can find enough paper and pen (or would it be quill and ink? Pens aren't too modern, there were some types of pens before, fountain pens I think, hopefully those exist) and find an economical way to translate it.

Or maybe I'll have the time to learn to write and read the logical language and translation will be unnecessary. I imagine that will only happen if I'm stuck here for a really long time though.

"We're going to need a lot of wood and a lot of time." I muse. "And some actual paint. I want to play with actually black pieces, not brown pieces with squares carved into them."

"Because that's clearly the most important thing."

"Of course it is! How can you play chess without black pieces!? That's like eating a pizza without cheese!"

"What's pizza?"

I stare at Morgan for a solid two seconds, then say. "Okay, I'm going to have to figure out how to make pizza. You have to try it."

"What's in it?"

"Tomato sauce, cheese, and a certain type of bread, and if you feel like it you can add a wide variety of toppings." I say. "The real issue is going to be the bread. It needs a certain texture and I have no idea how to achieve it."

"I'm sure some cook will know how to do what's needed." Morgan reassures.

"They better. A world without pizza is a dim one indeed."

"For food is the fuel of life!" Morgan proclaims. "Or… something. I don't know how to make a skit out of this."

"Can't win every time."

"Of course I can. I'm a genius!" She pouts. "It would just take too much effort at the moment."

"Mm-hmm, sure."

"It would!"

"Uh-huh." I pat her head condescendingly. I'm sure she could think up something, but it's fun to make a joke out of it. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that."

###

It's difficult when to choose to approach because I know I'm on the verge of a panic attack. I want to approach when I'm calmest so there's the least chance of me freaking out, but I have no idea what my "calmest" is going to be in a situation like this.

"And I'm just going to ask them to show me a game." I think miserably. "Even something as simple as this is almost beyond me."

It doesn't help that I can't talk myself into thinking this will go well. It's not like calling customer service where the job of the person on the other side is to help you, or where I can convince myself that whatever person I'm going to talk to doesn't have an inherent reason to dislike me, because these people do already have established reasons to dislike me. There's a very real chance they'll flat out refuse.

I told myself I'd ask about the game, and I'm in position to do it right now. Morgan is exercising up on deck, and there are people here playing the game that Morgan wants to know. I just have to get this out of the way. This will be terrible. There's no getting around that. I have to accept it.

"Just go." I think, forcing myself to take a step. "You've started moving and they've noticed, you can't back out now."

That's how I've always dealt with social situations that scare me. I convince myself I'm in a position where I can't escape without making the situation worse, so I'm effectively forced to go through the interaction once I start with no way to back out. That's probably not healthy, but it's the only way I've found to deal with these sorts of situations that actually works.

"I- uh- pardon me." I say. I already feel like cringing from how meek my tone is, but I know if I raise my voice it will waver and my nervousness will be even more obvious. Being quiet allows me to mask my emotions to a certain extent.

I also probably shouldn't have led with "pardon me" because that already implies that I'm intruding and that they shouldn't listen, and it's totally different than how they talk and I'm marking myself as extremely different than them, or maybe that's just me putting too much thought into things and the crew won't make that distinction. Maybe I shouldn't apply literary analysis to a single greeting, at least not right now.

"That- you-" I stutter. My heart is already hammering in my chest. Their eyes look judgemental and annoyed to me. Just spit it out already Nathan. "The game you're playing, I want to learn it. W-Would you mind teaching me?"

They all (there's four of them) stare at me with expressions that I think are contempt, annoyance, and derisive amusement. One of them speaks, grumbling "well it ain't like we got a choice in the matter, what with the captain tellin' us to play nice. Stop bein' a bitch about it and just demand we teach ya. Don't pretend you're all nervous an' shit, we know you ain't."

"I- well- that's not-" I stammer. "It's- you're supposed to play nice, not give in to everything we ask. If you don't want to t-teach me just say no."

I suppose I could have let them falsely believe that they were obliged to do as I asked, but I don't like lying. Even if it's really not to my advantage, I don't want to lie without a good reason.

"You're tellin' us to say no?"

"If you really don't want to, then say no." I affirm. "Don't go out of your way for my sake."

"Wasn't about to." The same man says. He studies me for a few seconds more, glances at everyone else at the table, then says. "Bah, grab a chair. One game couldn't hurt."

I do so quickly. One of the other men reluctantly bring out another set of cylinders when the person who was speaking nudges him.

"Norm'ly each person brings 'er own pegs to the game." The main man explains, probably seeing my confusion.

"Ah." I nod. "By the way… what's your name? I don't want to think of you as "the main guy" in my head."

That gets a snort of amusement out of him. "Name's Cyrus." He points to the left, then the right, then further right. "That's Julius, that's Linus, that's Marcus."

"Right." I say, trying to internalize those names. "I'm Nathan." Wait, they already know that. Shit.

"Yeah, we know." Thanks for rubbing it in, universe.

As it turns out, the game is literally just chinese checkers. The crew simply calls the game "Barrels", but it's also known as "Feroxi Barrels" or "Rum Route". The pegs represent barrels of rum apparently, and the triangles you're supposed to get to represent storehouses, and the open part in the middle is the sea. In this world, chinese checkers is a game about shipping rum.

The four men don't seem to mind me being there after a few minutes, likely because I'm not showing them up at their own game. They mostly talk among themselves as they play, but every once in a while a question is actually directed at me.

"So what are ya exactly?" Linus asks. "Are you the crazy girl's servant? Is that why ya asked ta play? She was askin' earlier."

Ah, so they did pick up on that. Also, apparently Morgan's threat where she mentioned I was her boyfriend didn't circulate in full, so they don't know what I am. "Not a servant. Just a companion. Though yes, I did ask to play for the purposes of telling her later."

"Are you hired help then? A merc?"

"No, a companion. A friend." I stress.

"Really?"

"Yes. Why is this so unbelievable?"

"You look rather different. I mean money wise." Linus points out. "Weird to see someone like us walkin' 'round with some mage scholar."

They think Morgan is a scholar? Okay, sure, whatever. "Well that's true enough. I'm broke and she's loaded. I'm not sure I'd say I'm "like you" though. My circumstances are… strange."

"What? You ain't poor?"

"Well I wasn't poor until half a year ago." I mumble. "I was… if I say "upper middle class" does that mean anything to you?"

"Nope."

"Well I had money. Enough that I could take breaks from work and went to school and all that." I say.

"Told ya so." Julius proclaims. "I told ya he talked too smart!"

"Shut up, he coulda just been copyin' the girl." Marcus grumbles.

"You owe me two copper!"

"I'll pay ya later. Just shut up."

I have a vague feeling my group has been the subject of a lot of speculation among the crew. That makes sense of course, but it's weird to know that I've been speculated about.

Cyrus speaks up. "While we're talkin' 'bout your little group, what's up with the one with the tits? She's been avoidin' us like we're diseased. She some rich lass who don't like us dirty commoners?"

"It's probably she doesn't want to be around people who will call her "the girl with the tits"." I say flatly. I feel a bit more confident now that I've been able to talk without immediate hatred directed towards me. I can use a bit of sass.

"That's a compliment!" Cyrus protests.

I mean… not really? Maybe in certain contexts but not this one. Am I really going to try and explain objectification to medieval sailors? My usual way of explaining things is "imagine this was done to you", but I doubt that's going to work so well because they would probably find some mildly lewd comment about their body to be a great thing. So that's not worth the effort to explain I think. "In your mind maybe, but not hers."

"Of course." He grumbles. "Women ain't ever simple."

Whatever you say buddy. I mean, I can't talk to women either, but it's for an entirely different reason I think. Except Morgan, because Morgan doesn't mind that I'm a stuttering moron. She probably wouldn't want me thinking like that. Something something you're better than you think. Straight lies, but they're heartfelt lies from Morgan so I'll listen anyways and stop thinking like that.

"Is that the real reason, or are you jus' givin' us attitude?" Linus speaks up.

Both, but do I say that? I don't want to put words in Noire's mouth. Let's go with... "Partially."

"Partially both?"

"Yeah."

"Bah." Linus grunts. "Is she always like that?"

You're very curious about Noire, aren't you? How much am I willing to share here? "Mostly. She's shy, and doesn't like me very much."

"You piss her off?"

"Maybe? I don't think I've done anything to truly earn her ire. I think it's mostly just a lack of trust and I can't blame her for that. I'm weird" I murmur.

Talk about my group mostly dies off after that, and it's fine with me. I wasn't exactly comfortable talking about Noire. They don't tell me to leave when they prepare for the second game, but I take the chance to bow out anyways.

Morgan is eager to try the game when I explain it to her, and insists on buying it when we make landfall if possible.

###

The night before we're due to arrive, we get our first glimpse of the island on the horizon. The sun is low on the horizon to our right, casting shades of red and pink and orange across the sky. The island is visible from a distance mostly because of a single large building that sticks up above the waves.

"That's a rich club lass." The captain explains when Morgan asks about it. "Games, theater, music, the works. They be our employer as well. We bring 'cross some o' the fancy food an' spices they like to have there. I've seen the inside. They got chandeliers mode o' gold an' silver rims on their tables. The Siren's Call ain't no place for folks like me, 'cept if I'm makin' a delivery."

"Does that have anything to do with the island being the island of silver?"

"Aye." The captain nods. "This island be a place for the rich. You won't find any shortage of mansions here, nor good food and entertainment… if ya can afford it. This place be Ylissian, but ya can find all sorts o' people 'ere. Plegian spice lords, leaders of Feroxi fur empires, and businessmen o' all sorts. Even the Exalt got little power 'ere. All these folks are too rich for even an exalt to tell 'em what to do."

That certainly explains the island's name. This island is a retreat for the rich. Silver indeed. I guess that explains why Nah was found in an abandoned mansion on her paralogue. This whole island is probably littered with mansions. That makes our search a lot more difficult, as if it wasn't already difficult.

"Yer gonna have to find some other way off the island if you want to be gettin' to the Ylissian mainland." The captain warns. "An' it may not be cheap unless you can get another ride with a supply ship like us."

"We'll manage." Morgan shrugs. "At worst I can use my cute face to get us a ride."

The captain snorts. "Careful there lass. Gonna get yerself in trouble like that. Someone might take too much o' a liken' to yer "cute face", an' people 'ere are used to gettin' whatever they want an' may not take so kindly to rejection."

"Well I do know magic and swords for a reason." Morgan grins. "They can try to mess with me. Money or no money I'll come out on top."

It's amazing how casual Morgan can be about potential sexual assault. Then again, maybe compared to the threat of death when dealing with bandits she doesn't see it as as much of a big deal.

I also have a realization. "I'm going to look so out of place."

"Indeed." The captain nods. "Maybe see 'bout gettin' better clothes if you be stayin' for more than a few days."

"Uh, right." It's not like I have the money for that, so I probably won't. Besides, we just need to find Nah and leave, we hopefully won't have to deal with any of the rich folk on the island at all. I can get clothes in Ylisstol… after I make some more money.

Or, more likely, Morgan will insist on paying for clothes regardless of my protests because she's way too nice. I wonder if I can find some money before we get to Ylisstol so I can actually afford to buy clothes on my own cash so I have a legitimate reason to refuse Morgan.

As much as we joke that her money is group funds and as much gold as she might have, I don't want her wasting her money on me without a good reason.

That night, when all four members of our group are in our room, we have a discussion.

"So, we need a plan for finding Nah." Morgan says simply. "The only point of reference we have is an abandoned manor, and we don't even know where that is. I'm open to ideas."

No one else immediately speaks up, so I start. "I have a question to preface my idea."

"What?"

"What was it like to come out of the portal? I swear this is relevant."

"I don't remember." Morgan says, looking to Kjelle and Noire.

"It was scary." Noire mumbles. "So many lights, and I was weightless, and-"

"Right." I interrupt. "Uh, don't mean to be rude, but was the portal visible when you came out of it? How big was it?"

"Oh!" Noire blinks. "Y-Yes. It was big and had crystals around the sides. It only stayed for a few seconds though."

"Still, we could possibly ask around to see if anyone saw the portal." I offer. "Though that might get us some weird looks."

"That probably won't work." Morgan says bluntly. "We might as well be asking for Nah specifically considering how low the chances are of us meeting someone who saw the portal."

My shoulders sink. "Oh."

"Uh, but it's a creative idea." Morgan offers reassuringly.

"How about we get our names out there?" Kjelle suggests. "Nah will know who me and Noire are. If she hears our names, she might come looking for us and that makes things much easier."

"W-Well there are a lot of rich people here, right?" Noire mumbles. "So someone is bound to be a powerful mage, or have one in their employ. Maybe we can get a favor, or just pay for them to use a scrying spell and find Nah."

"Now that is an idea." Morgan says, pointing to Noire. "Your idea isn't terrible either Kjelle, it would just take longer."

So only my idea sucked. Great.

"If we do end up needing to search on foot though, we might want to consider splitting up." Morgan says. "I doubt on an island full of rich people there are going to be many bandits, but we should go in groups of two if we do have to search."

"You just want to go with Nathan." Kjelle says accusingly.

"Guilty." Morgan chirps without any hint of shame. "What? Are you so desperate to be rid of us, even Noire, that you want to go alone? Or did you want to come with me? I get it, I'm pretty amazing, not to mention super attractive. Is it my face, or maybe you just like that I have money?"

Kjelle's eye visibly twitches. "On second thought, I'll revel in the chance to be away from you."

Morgan leans over and stage-whispers to me "I think she's too shy to admit she likes me."

"Clearly." I say in a flat, toneless voice. "She's head over heels."

"I am not!" Kjelle seethes.

"Madly in love."

"Shut up."

"Total tsundere."

"You're not even speaking Archanean now."

"Well yeah, it's English… and Japanese."

"It's fine if she doesn't want to admit it." Morgan says with a wide grin. "I'm willing to wait. They say the chase is the most fun part."

Kjelle sighs in defeat. "Fuck both of you."

"Ooh, three-way?"

Kjelle gives Morgan a withering glare, and Morgan smiles coyly and giggles behind her hand in an obvious imitation of a shy maiden.

Which, to be clear, she is not. She's about as far from that as possible.

"Anyways…" Kjelle says through gritted teeth. "Which plan are we going with?"

"I think Noire's is best." Morgan says, dropping her act. "We'll split to search if that fails, and also get the word out that we're looking for Nah. We can use all our plans."

Except mine, because mine was stupid.

"Except yours." Morgan acknowledges, even though I didn't say anything. Maybe it showed on my face. She leans into me with a smile. "But that's only because you're making it waaaay too complicated. That was a solid thing to point out."

If you say so Morgan. I'd figure there's a fifty-fifty chance she's saying that out of pity.

"It might be nice to split the group, don't you think?" Morgan whispers as she leans in close. Once again she has a wide grin on her face. "We haven't exactly been alone since we found Noire, have we?"

"Oh- uh-" I squeak. I have no idea how lewdly she meant that implication, but my heart clenches and my hands sweat despite that. "Y-Yeah."

Her grin doesn't fade. "You're very red."

"And who's fault is that?" I manage to say without stammering.

"Me I hope." Morgan chirps.

"Get a fucking room." Kjelle says.

"This is our room."

"Get another. For Naga's sake…" Kjelle moans while rubbing her forehead. "I really hope we split up now. Naga…"

Noire doesn't comment, but she's also blushing a bit. Morgan is the only person in the room who isn't flustered to some degree, and she looks supremely smug about it.

###

The docks still smell like fish, rich or not. The Siren's Call is even more massive up close, and by "up close" I mean we're probably an hour's walk from it and it still dominates the skyline. It's fucking huge. That building is the size of… I don't have a good comparison. It's not the tallest or widest building I've ever seen, but it's still massive. I can't imagine how much money must have gone into it, especially considering this is basically medieval times so the construction was likely more difficult than in ours.

Let's see… it's at least a dozen stories tall, with multi-colored stain-glass windows all around. Each floor isn't small either if the windows are any indication. The building is easily as large as a city block as well. It's not a skyscraper in height, nor does it take up as much area as the Vatican, but as a combination of both it's still monstrous in overall size.

I guess if you stick enough rich people in the same place they'll make something amazing. Or maybe it was funded by one person that was absolutely swimming in cash.

"It's so big." Noire mumbles, apparently having the same thought as me. "We're not even close and it's still so big."

"I wonder what it's like on the inside." Morgan muses. "I wanna see…"

"If you want to waste your money on it, go right ahead." Kjelle huffs.

"Hey, you need my money." Morgan reminds. "My money is group funds, remember?"

Kjelle grumbles under her breath, but Morgan is right after all. Kjelle has maybe ten silver to her name. That's not nothing, but it will only last her so long and might not get her off the island if all the boats are expensive.

Well, okay, we only paid a few silver for our trip. So if Kjelle could find a supply ship willing to transport her she might be able to get off the island. Still, it would be inconvenient.

"So what's our first goal? We need to find a skilled mage, right?" I ask.

"Well first we need lodgings." Morgan reminds me.

Oh, right, duh. Jumping the gun a bit there.

"So let's see if we can find some place that isn't hideously expensive." She says. "Then we should ask around, casually, about skilled known mages. We want to know our options first. We're in the land of the rich. It would be foolish to think there isn't corruption and manipulation and power plays everywhere. It would be best if we can find someone known for charity, or at least with a good reputation for his character rather than just his skills."

I hadn't even considered that. This is why Morgan is the tactician and not me, though I suppose this is more strategy than tactics at the moment.

Where do you draw the line between strategy and tactics anyways? Is it a sliding scale or is there a hard line? Maybe this is tactics because we're talking specifics? Ah whatever. I imagine there's some crossover in the skills needed for tactics and strategy, so as much as Morgan is a tactician that probably also makes her a decent strategist.

She's also just really smart, so there's that.

Also… "Morgan."

"Yeah?"

"Do we need a cover story?" I ask. "How much do we have to avoid attention?"

"I- huh. I hadn't considered that." Morgan muses. "I don't imagine we're going to have any inherent trouble so we don't need one for daily use, but if we're going to ask aid of a mage we might need to make something up then. Good point."

"Three time-travelling girls and some random guy from beyond the outrealms isn't going to sound very believable, and it might draw attention we'd rather not have if someone does put stock in it." Kjelle says quietly. "How many rich men would like to research time travel if they had the chance, or have knowledge of the future?"

"Point." Morgan mutters. "So what are we then?"

So far we've just refrained from explaining our circumstances or given some generic explanation, but if anyone shrewd took a good look at us they'd find cracks in our story. We don't want that now.

"I think the main problem is going to be you Nathan." Morgan says, turning to me. "I mean, even aside from your clothes, you look Valmeses while the rest of us are obviously either Ylissian or Plegian, but you don't speak in a Valmese accent, and you're not leading."

Of course I'd be the problem. Of course.

"And he's a wimp." Kjelle points out. "Even if he doesn't look like it."

Screw you too. I mean, you're totally right, but still screw you.

"How are we going to explain all that?" Morgan muses. "Hmm…"

"I could just not go with you when you talk to the mage." I offer. "So you don't have to explain it."

"But you're the one who knows about Nah's circumstances." Morgan says. "We might need you there."

"I really, really doubt that. I know Nah's very general circumstances. It's not like I'm going to be able to pick out landmarks or anything. Aside from the fact that she's on this island and will probably eventually end up in a Risen infested manor, that's all I know."

"Well yeah, that's more than the rest of us." Morgan insists.

"That doesn't make me any more useful in finding Nah from now on." I retort. "Morgan, if I'll make things more difficult, just leave me behind. I appreciate that you're trying to include me, but be practical. It won't even be for that long when it happens."

Morgan does not look happy about that. She crosses her arms indignantly. "We haven't even tried to think of a cover story yet. I'm not counting you out unless we have to. There's no good reason you shouldn't be coming with us."

"Except that he can't string together two sentences when talking to anyone that isn't you?" Kjelle mutters. Morgan clearly hears her, but chooses to ignore it.

"So." Morgan claps. "Who are we? We can probably keep our names. No need to get too fancy."

Too late for that, I'm already using a different name. I… I should probably mention that at some point, especially to Morgan.

"Our individual backstories don't have to be too fancy either." Morgan adds. "Just, how did a group like us get together and how did we lose Nah? Also, what's up with Nathan because he's the only guy?"

"Well, we could say we're a mercenary group." Kjelle suggests. "That would explain why we all dress so differently. We all come from different places, but come together with the goal of money. Even Nathan wouldn't be too out of place."

"A-And Nah is a mage." Noire adds. "Sh-She came here looking for a certain spell that… that…"

"Looking for information on outrealms." Morgan says. "Might as well use a grain of truth, right? Makes it easier to remember. Plus, if anyone did happen to see her portal, it would explain why she would be around it without implying she came out of it."

"So we're a mercenary group from all around, Nah came here looking for information about outrealms because she heard about a portal, and we came to get her because…?" Kjelle asks.

"She's a month late." I offer. "And she's always had a bad sense of direction, so we came to the logical conclusion that she got lost and came to fetch her. We may be in this line of work for money, but companions always come first."

"Sap." Kjelle snorts. "What sort of mercenary are you?"

"We don't have to say that. It can be implied." I mumble. "Why else would we be coming to get Nah?"

"Fine, but don't say that. Let me talk, or literally anyone else." Kjelle says. "You couldn't pass as a mercenary if you tried."

"I know." But thanks for rubbing it in anyways.

"So I think that works" Morgan chirps. "We can iron out the details later, so let's find a place to stay."

Chapter Text

"Finally, it is good to be in a place befitting my massive brain and even more massive wallet." Morgan sniffs pretentiously. "How beneath me it was to be travelling in a world of filthy plebeians and to need to touch dirt with my own boots! The wonders of cobbled roads are truly innumerable."

"Indeed they are, Mistress. Would you like your tea with enormously expensive imported sugar that tastes exactly the same as regular sugar, or milk from your private farms that you claim is specially made but is actually just the same as all other milk?" I ask in a simpering, servile voice.

"I do think I'll take the sugar this time." Morgan says. "How will I remind myself of how incredibly rich I am if I do consume something hideously expensive at least once per meal? Why, I might vaguely resemble a commoner! Can you imagine the trauma that would cause my fragile ego?"

"Of course Mistress." I say. "I have also prepared numerous dress options for your outing today. How ostentatious are you feeling? We have an elegant Chon'sinese blue silk gown personally made for you by your personal Chon'sinese tailor who you can't even talk to without a translator, a dress of your own making with real platinum coins as ornamentation for extra pretension, or traditional Feroxi garb that is so heavily altered with gold and silver that it is not even recognizable as such?"

"I think I'll take my platinum gown." Morgan proclaims. "Do prepare the carriage for my departure dear boy. And remember to round up some plebeians to pull it for me. Horses are so hideously expensive."

"Of course Mistress."

"Are you two quite done?" Kjelle asks dryly.

"Feeling impatient dear? A guard must have the utmost patience! What else do I pay you for?" Morgan tuts. "Do not make me dock your pay. I am being quite generous with your five copper daily pay already."

Kjelle's eye twitches. Noire silently sips her tea, choosing not to comment. I'm the only person not having tea. I have water.

The plan today is to find information on a mage who might be willing to scry for us and who we have some cause to believe is trustworthy.

I'm fairly sure I'm not going to be useful in that endeavor, if only because of my anxiety when dealing with strangers, and this job is literally all about going up to strangers to ask for information.

At least I can be assured that Morgan will do most of the talking. I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to be able to do to help, but I suppose I don't really have to.

With our goofiness mostly out of our system and our breakfast done, we exit the inn and-

"We should probably split up. We don't all need to talk to the same person at the same time." Morgan says. "So at the very least we can split up with me and Nathan and you two, though if you two are comfortable going alone we get more info, but it's not a big deal."

"That's fine with me." Kjelle says. "Noire?"

"I-I'd rather stay with you than go alone." Noire murmurs.

"That's fine. We're in no real rush anyways." Morgan says. "Oh, and here."

She takes some gold out of her pouch, six, and hands three to each of them. Kjelle takes her money with a raised eyebrow.

"We're finally in a place that looks fun, so… take some money to have fun!" Morgan chirps. "Get lunch at a nice place, watch a play, I dunno. We've been on the move or stuck in a tavern for months on end, so let's not waste the chance, right?"

"There are better uses for this money…" Kjelle grumbles.

"Yeah, but I wanna enjoy myself." Morgan says. "If you don't want to use it, don't, but this is my money and I can choose how I use it."

"We're supposed to be searching for information, not having a day on the town." Kjelle argues.

"We can do both. We're not in a rush Kjelle." Morgan reminds her. "Nah isn't in imminent danger or anything. If you don't want to, you don't have to, but just because we're on a mission doesn't mean we can never have fun."

"You have fun all the time with your stupid roleplay." Kjelle complains under her breath. "But fine. I'll take your money if you're so insistent."

"You're welcome." Morgan says smugly. "You're lucky I'm such a generous, gracious, humble girl who doesn't mind giving money to someone so ungrateful."

"If you expect me to say thank you now, I won't." Kjelle sneers.

"Kjelle…" Noire says reproachfully. Her eyebrows are slightly furrowed and she has a frown on her face. "Morgan is being nice."

"I- fine." Kjelle says. "Thank you. There, happy?"

Noire still looks disappointed in her, and Morgan still looks supremely smug.

"Let's meet back here at dusk." Morgan says cheerfully as she pulls me away. "You can have dinner out if you want! Don't feel shy about spending the money!"

###

"They had all sorts of miniatures!" Morgan says eagerly. "I want to see if they have the game Father played! I also saw a shop with tomes and I want to get a new one, and I heard some of the sailors talking about the really nice restaurants here and how some of them aren't too unreasonably priced and I really want some good food!"

"We are going to actually accomplish our mission at some point, right?" I ask, amused. "This wasn't just an excuse to go on a shopping trip?"

"Well..." Morgan says with a smirk.

"Morgan."

"Of course it wasn't. It's also an excuse to be with you~!" Morgan smiles. "It's been awhile since we've been alone during the day, and Kjelle is kind of a killjoy."

I'm not sure I've ever had someone so eager to be around me, much less to have alone time. I don't know what I did to make you think so highly of me Morgan, but I'm glad I did it. "Well I'm not about to complain about having your genius mind all to myself."

Morgan makes an exaggerated gasp. "Is all you care about my mind? What about my winning personality? What about my body?!"

"Your personality is a convenient bonus." I joke. "And your body… no comment."

"Rude!" Morgan pouts. "I bet other men would love my mature and not at all childish or cute face!"

A smile stretches the corners of my face. "Have you been watering yourself every morning and removing bugs?"

"Oh come on!" Morgan pouts. "I am not that small!"

"Well…"

"Fine, I won't be small forever!"

I usually would carry on the joke here, but now that I consider it I have to bring this point up eventually. "Morgan, you do know that-"

"Yeah, I know, I might not get a growth spurt." She huffs. "A girl can dream though, can't she? Besides, I feel like I should have one."

"What do you mean?"

"It's a subconscious thing." Morgan says, gesturing to her stomach and head. "I just feel in my gut that I haven't had a growth spurt. I feel like I'm still waiting for it. I know my age means I shouldn't have one, but…"

"Well it's not impossible." I say slowly. "There are a few conditions that could explain it. There are some deformities like hypopituitarism where your brain might not produce certain growth hormones, or it might be something more benign like constitutional growth delay, but there's also the chance that you're just small. Actually… do you know how tall your father was? A good indicator of a child's final height is actually their parents' height."

"Father is smaller than you, but a head and a bit over me." Morgan says. "He's average from what I remember."

"I suppose then it would depend on your mother then." I muse. But the only really small women in the game are Nowi and Nah and Morgan herself. No one else is quite that short. Or, I don't think there's anyone that short. It's not like there are official heights. Maybe Olivia is actually really short. "But yeah, you probably should be taller. Maybe we can ask Miriel to look into it if science or magic has advanced far enough to detect genetic defects."

"So the only possibility is defects though?" Morgan asks worriedly. "Or else I'm just done growing?"

"Constitutional growth delay isn't really a defect, and isn't usually permanent. It might just be that." I reassure. "If you feel fine, don't worry. Something like hypopituitarism would probably have other side effects. If you feel fine, then there's nothing to worry about."

"Right." Morgan sighs. "I just… I want to grow."

"What's so wrong with being small and cute?"

"Nothing!" Morgan says in frustration. "It's not even bad or anything, but I hate feeling like I'm missing out on something I should be getting. I wouldn't mind being short and cute if it felt natural, but it doesn't. I feel like I'm in the middle of something."

That's a very specific feeling. I'm trying to remember all the mental symptoms of puberty now. Maybe I can try and determine if she's still in the middle of it. Or maybe she already knows. "Do you know if you started puberty at least?"

"Yeah." Morgan nods. "I have the usual female issues, so to speak."

Okay, so that strikes off the possibility that she just didn't start puberty at all. "Well I have no idea then. Realistically you should have hit your growth spurt by now. It's probably not an issue, but if you're really worried about it you should talk to Miriel and probably a healer when we get to Ylisstol."

"Who's Miriel again?"

"Smart lady. Mage, scientist."

"Right, right…" Morgan nods. "We got off track."

"Yeah, sorry."

"No, I'm glad you brought it up. Better than worrying about it in the back of my mind." Morgan says. "So, anyways, miniatures!"

"Right."

###

Before we even get to the store, something completely different catches my attention. I catch a flash of a familiar hairstyle and face in the crowd. Morgan has been leading me until then, but when I catch a glimpse of those I grab Morgan by the arm and tug her into the market.

"I saw something." I say quickly to explain. "Someone."

"Who?"

"An Anna."

Morgan perks up. "Anna? One of my possible mothers?"

"Uh, probably not. There are dozens, maybe hundreds of Annas. They all look alike and have the same name." I explain. I'm only half paying attention to her. I need to find Anna again. "But they know a lot and an Anna operates the outrealm gate in the game, so there's a chance I can get some useful info out of her."

"Right." Morgan's brow furrows. "What does she look like?"

"Red hair, ponytail, probably wears some red too." I recount quickly.

It doesn't actually take too long to find Anna, because despite how busy the market is Anna is very good at making herself heard and seen. She actually doesn't have her stall set up yet, and is in the process of unfolding a stand from the back of her wagon.

For once, my nervousness is forgotten in my eagerness to talk. "Anna!"

The merchant turns her head with a wide and very fake smile on her face. She's not dressed like the Shepherds' Anna, and instead has an outfit that's white and crimson rather than red and yellow. Still, she's still very obviously an Anna. "Hello! How are you hansome? And you too, cutie! Just give me a minute if you would, I just need to set up my stall before I can make a sale~!"

"Ah, we're not here to buy merchandise." I say quickly. "Just information. I know you Annas are smart."

"Oh?" That seems to catch her attention. She stops unfolding her stand, strands up straight, and turns to me with obvious curiosity. "Is that so?"

"Yes." I nod. "Uh, is that wrong…?"

"No, not at all." Anna says. "It's just unusual to hear. Mostly when people think of us Anna's they tend to think of our salesmanship. People don't usually assume we're smart as a rule."

"Well I know better." I say. From my game knowledge, I know that all Annas are familiar with information from a big family collection of knowledge that all Annas are required to know, though I obviously can't say that I know that specific piece of information. "I'll get right to the point. Does the outrealm gate exist in this world, and if so, how far can it send someone?"

Anna's eyebrows rise quickly, and she leans forward. "Well now, that's an interesting question. What interest do you have in outrealms, stranger?"

"I want to get home." I say honestly. "But to do that I'm going to need interdimensional travel, and the outrealm gate is the only way I know of doing that."

Not true actually. Anankos pulled Owain, Severa, and Inigo to the world of Fates, so he can cause interdimensional travel, but that's not something I can even start to try and use.

"You're an outrealmer, hmm?" Anna hums. Her eyes study me carefully.

"Maybe?"

"What do you mean, maybe?" Anna asks.

"I mean maybe." I shrug. "I don't know how I got here, but I come from a place without magic, so coming through an outrealm portal seems unlikely."

"Indeed." Anna frowns. "I'm not sure the outrealm portal would be able to get you back home anyways if that's the case. Breaking into a magic-less world would require an astounding amount of power."

"So the outrealm portal does exist."

"Yes, it does." Anna whispers. "Keep that to yourself though. We try not to spread the fact that interdimensional travel exists for what I hope should be obvious reasons."

"Too dangerous." I whisper in return. "Sorry."

"Is that all you wanted to know?" Anna asks.

"Well… I have a few more mundane questions too." I say.

"Fire away. Anything else sensitive will cost you though." Anna warns. "The outrealm gate was a freebie because of your circumstance, if you're going to pry into anything else I'm charging."

"I just need general news of the world." I reassure her. "Is Ylisse at war right now?"

"Oh that? Geeze, you could ask anyone that." Anna huffs.

Oh, right. I guess we're not in farming villages now, and the rich would obviously get information pretty quickly.

"But yeah, Ylisse is at war. They've got Plegia on the ropes from what my sister tells me." Anna says.

So the Ylisse-Plegia war is the one happening. We haven't even hit the timeskip yet. Interesting, and also possibly very inconvenient. If the timeskip hasn't happened yet and Valm hasn't invaded, that means Lucina probably hasn't revealed herself to the Shepherds yet, which means we're going to have a problem trying to explain the ruined future situation.

"Is Emmeryn alive?"

Anna's eyes narrow. "That's a very specific question. What makes you ask that?"

"Well Emmeryn is the ruling exalt from what I'm aware." I say. "If war started, then it makes sense she would be in danger. I just want to know the situation in Ylisse overall seeing as my group will be heading to Ylisstol."

"Mm-hmm." Anna hums, unconvinced. "Did you just expect me to ignore the fact that you for some reason thought that Ylisse would be at war? You know something."

Ah, uh, right. She doesn't know about my future knowledge. I really should have been more careful. "Well that's not wrong…" I say reluctantly.

Anna sighs. "Emmeryn is alive."

I wonder if that means she got taken but survived unlike the games, or if she hasn't gotten taken yet, but if that were the case then Plegia wouldn't be on the ropes yet. So I think, somehow, Emmeryn actually survives in this world, and I have no idea what that's going to do for the accuracy of my future knowledge.

"Okay, spill, come on, I've answered your questions." Anna huffs. "I won't charge you, so do a girl a good turn here huh?"

"Uh, well…" I mumble, suddenly feeling acutely nervous. I glance to Morgan (who has been quiet this entire time) for reassurance, and she calmly squeezes my arm. She doesn't comment one way or another, leaving it up to me how I want to handle this. "My world has stories of this world and worlds like it."

"Oho!" Anna leans way forward. "You have to tell me! Spill! I'll pay you for that info!"

"I don't have much that would be useful to you." I say honestly. "I can tell you Ylisse will eventually go to war with Valm, probably about two years after this war ends. After that war ends Grima will rise, then be killed, and a large portion of Plegia's population will be dead."

Anna stares for a long ten seconds, then murmurs. "Okay then, that is something, and it is useful indeed." She digs into her coin pouch and pulls out a full gold coin and offers it to me. "I'm not usually this generous, so for future reference settle the price before you give them the goods."

"It isn't a sale." I say, pushing the coin back. "We traded. You told me about the outrealm gate, I told you about the future."

"If you say so." Anna pockets the coin. "Well, if you have any other tidbits of information you remember while you're around, I'll still be more than happy to buy some knowledge."

"I'll keep that in mind." I say. "Oh, and one last thing…"

"Hmm?"

"Have you seen someone called Nah? She's short, looks like a child and dresses like a doll, and has pointed ears."

Anna shakes her head. "Can't say I have. I'll point her this way if I do though."

"Thanks." I nod. "Well, uh… best of luck with your sales."

"Thank you." She smiles, looking a bit more genuine this time. "Come back when I'm set up if you're interested in buying something! I promise only the best of prices!"

"Sure." I nod. "Bye."

Me and Morgan walk away from her stall and out of the market, and Morgan takes the lead again.

"So." She says once we're out of the crowd. "What does that tell you?"

"What do you mean?"

"What did you learn? I mean, what does the war between Ylisse and Plegia mean for us?"

"Oh." I take a second to compose my thoughts. "So, it means we might have some trouble convincing your father about the whole future child thing, as in the game Lucina doesn't reveal her future child status until the beginning of the Valmese war. Granted, Emmeryn is still alive in this world which doesn't happen in the game, so with that deviation in mind I really can't predict too accurately."

"Ooh, that's a problem." Morgan frowns. "What do we do if she hasn't revealed herself then?"

"Try and find her?" I suggest weakly. "Not that I know where she'd be. We could also just go find the other future kids without talking to all your parents. Alternatively, I could try to leverage the fact that I know things about them to convince them that you're future children through my future knowledge."

"We might have to rely on that." Morgan muses. "Let's hope Lucina revealed herself early then."

"Yeah, let's." I hope I'll be able to convince the Shepherds that they have future kids. It won't be as easy as convincing the future kids that I had knowledge of the world though, because unlike them I have to battle disbelief whereas the future kids are already used to some pretty weird stuff.

###

Have you ever been to a Games Workshop? This store is kinda like that, except none of the miniatures are in boxes. They're in glass display cases. I can see normal soldiers, pegasus knights, wyvern riders, dragons, and even some things that I'm pretty sure don't exist here like orcs, elves, and a number of angelic and demonic looking figures.

I don't see any Skaven though, so it's not a straight Warhammer rip off. I never really played any miniature games because they were too expensive and I was (and still am) always pretty bad at strategy anyways, but I always did have an interest in them. They were cool, but I was always too frugal (despite my decently large bank of expendable cash) and too self-conscious about how bad I was to bother getting into anything of the sort.

All the miniatures are just a bit larger than I'd expect back home. I wonder if it's because they're wood, and you can't get as detailed with wood because of… uh… the grain…? I only know basic woodworking, okay!?

"Well, what do we have here?" A stilted voice calls through the store as me and Morgan gaze about. A tall, almost emaciated old man with skin pulled tight to bones, thin but brilliantly white hair pulled into a ponytail, glasses, and a polished wooden cane with golden swirls trailing down it, emerges from behind a case with a stiff gait. Everything about him is stiff in fact. His walk, the way his head snaps between us suddenly, and even the way he talks. He spaces out every syllable evenly, leaving about a half second between them. It's a very odd way of speaking. "You are new. Are you from off the island?"

"Yep!" Morgan chirps. "I remember my Father liked things like this, but I can't remember exactly what game it was. When I saw the store I had to come in and look though!"

"Your father plays, you say? Well, perhaps I can help narrow it down." The man says, and suddenly extends a hand. "I am Keene, and you?"

"I'm Morgan!" Morgan chirps. She enthusiastically shakes his hand. "I'm a tactician! A great one!"

"Indeed? Perhaps you could play well, then." Keene smiles. "And you." He extends a hand to me. "You are?"

"Nathan." I say, shaking his hand more gently. I do have to note that his hand doesn't shake though, and his grip is rather firm. "Not a tactician, just her companion."

"Just as well." Keene nods. "Now, do tell, Morgan-" (he pronounces it "more-gahn" rather than "more-gin" despite the fact that Morgan said her name not ten seconds ago) "-what do you remember?"

"Not too much." Morgan admits reluctantly. "My memory is spotty. I remember horsemen, armor knights, trebuchets… and some lady on a multi-eyed dragon."

"Did those figures, by chance, happen to be painted blue and gold and green?"

Morgan nods. "Yeah, they were!"

"Those are likely the Knights of the Veil." Keene says, and gestures for us to follow. He leads us to the back of the store and takes a moment to open a few cabinets, apparently looking for something. He finds it within a minute, and shows us… a ten-eyed dragon with an armored lady on it. He had exactly what Morgan was talking about. "Does this seem right?"

"That's exactly it!" Morgan all but shouts. Her grin threatens to split her face. "It's just like I remember it! That's crazy!"

"I have at least one of everything." Keene says with obvious pride in his voice. "And I know it all. I have spent much of my life in this hobby. It would be a failure on my part if I could not identify such a specific description."

Yeah, but that's still crazy. It took him maybe ten seconds to figure out exactly what character and what group Morgan was talking about, even with her overall vague description.

"This is part of the most popular system in recent times." Kenne says, handing the miniature to Morgan to study. I'm surprised he's okay with her handling the merchandise without any guarantee she'll buy. "A system called "Multirealm", which, as the name would imply, is set in a series of connected but distinct worlds, or realms. A simple premise, but infinitely flexible for the creation of new factions."

"Cool…" Morgan murmurs. I'm not sure if she's talking about the system or the miniature. Maybe both, but probably the miniature if I had to bet.

"Is it a dice game?" I ask. "I'm from elsewhere and we have miniature games that use dice to determine combat and such."

"It is the same here." Keene says. He leans forward on his cane. His voice carries clear enthusiasm. "What games are you familiar with?"

Well it's not like he's going to be able to get his hands on any of the ones I know, and I feel kinda bad about it because he seems really interested. "Does the name Warhammer ring any bells?"

"It does not." Keene says. "Do tell!"

"Well, here's what I remember of it…"

I proceed to spend the better part of an hour trying to recount all I know about Warhammer. I never played, but I have looked into it several times, so even I'm surprised by how much I can recall about it.

It's only when I'm done (and have broken the news that he won't be able to get his hands on the game because I claim it's "discontinued", much to Keene's dismay) that I remember why we came here and that I just spent an hour completely shutting Morgan out of the conversation. Also, no one else actually came into the store during this time. I guess with how specialized this shop is, and considering there's no need to come here frequently, that Keene doesn't get much daily traffic.

Morgan, thankfully, doesn't look too put-out. By that I mean she's been paying just as much attention as Keene has, despite having even less context to understand what the heck I'm saying.

So not put-out at all, and I'm worrying for nothing. I suppose that's better than being worried for good reason though.

However, Morgan does want to shop for a tome before we get to lunch time, so she hands back the miniature she's been holding (as Multirealm and most miniature board games are very much games for the rich in this world and having only one unit would be almost useless anyhow) and we bid Keene farwell. Judging by his wide smile, I think we made his day despite not buying anything.

When I arrived in this world I never expected to run across a nice old man who was passionate about miniature tabletop war games, nor was I expecting those types of games to exist at all, but I suppose this world does have some pleasant surprises and isn't always archaic and disappointing.

###

"Why do you even want another tome anyhow?" I question. "Is elfire not enough for you? Want more bang for your buck?"

"Nah, I just don't want to accidentally burn a forest down." Morgan says, reminding me of our close brush with that when we were hunting back in Ferox. "I could use some variety anyways. Different tomes for different situations or different opponents."

"Like wind for fliers?"

"Yeah." She nods. "Is that something you learned from the game?"

"Yep. Not that great against pegasus knights because they have great magic resist anyhow, but lethal to wyvern riders."

"That's fairly accurate." Morgan nods. "Pegasi have incredible natural magic resistance, so what you're trying to do when attacking a pegasus knight with wind magic is either aiming for the rider or trying to cause enough disturbance in the air to make it fall out of the sky."

"I see." I say. "So, are you aiming to get a wind tome, or maybe a thunder tome?"

"I was hoping for elthunder and wind." Morgan says. "I'm confident I can pull off elthunder or learn it quick because Father taught me thunder magic even if I can't remember, but wind will be new territory."

"Not interested in dark magic?"

"I am, but I think I want some proper instruction before I try that." Morgan says. "Dark magic is different, I think."

We're passing a lot of well-to-do shops with all sorts of things on show in the windows. I can see shops for things like candles, dolls, dresses (so many dresses, half the stores are for dresses, what the hell) weapons and armor, books (not tomes, just books), and-

"Morgan!" I say suddenly, pointing at a store. "Look!"

"What is- oh man!" Morgan grins. "That's perfect!"

A store selling games. Board games! I'm so happy that something like this exists in this world, even if I'm pretty sure it only exists because of all the rich people around. I really hope there's something like it in Ylisstol. "We can't not go in there… right?"

"Definitely." Morgan says. "After I get my tomes."

"Oh, right."

"You're very easily distracted today." Morgan smirks. She loops her arm through mine. "I can't have you leaving and getting lost, what would I tell the others?"

"I won't leave. I'm not that flighty." I mumble. I would totally get lost if I left Morgan's side though. My sense of direction is terrible. I couldn't find my way back to the inn right now if I tried. "And the others wouldn't care."

"Nathan…"

"You know it's true."

"I don't think so."

"Oh really?" I raise an eyebrow. "Kjelle wouldn't prefer if I was gone?"

"Uh…" Morgan stalls, probably realizing that I'm totally right. "Yeah, okay, maybe, but she'd still help find you if you were lost. She's a knight, she helps people in trouble and all that. She wants you gone, not possibly dead or injured or in trouble."

Yeah, that's fair. Kjelle is an ass, but not that much of an ass.

"And Noire would care too. Again, you're weird to them, not an enemy. Besides, you had a direct hand in rescuing Noire. I know you don't talk to her at all now, but her opinion of you isn't that low."

"I'll take your word for it." I say.

"Good." Morgan tilts her head up and gives a haughty sniff. "Now come, servant. I wish to procure new weaponry for mineself."

"Of course my lady." I respond, dropping my voice to something sniveling. "I scouted all the best shops yesterday…"

In the end we find a suitably generic tome shop, and Morgan buys elthunder and wind for five gold total. Elthunder was four, wind was one. Tomes are expensive. Everything else she's bought in my memory has only cost copper or silver. Even if they're "cheap" because they're made to be expendable, that doesn't mean they're still not pricey, just less so than they would be otherwise.

###

Apparently, as we've been walking around the town Morgan has been taking note of any restaurants we pass by. It hadn't even occurred to me to do that. I really have to start paying more attention to stuff like that. I just assumed that since Morgan mentioned restaurants that she would handle it, and she has, but this was something I could have helped with. I know Morgan is probably always going to be more alert and active and assertive than me, but in regards to our relationship I should really start keeping track of things I can do for her, or even just with her. Better I start putting in effort now than wait for it to become a problem. I don't need to be as forward as Morgan, I just need to put in some effort rather than waiting to be led around all the time.

"Oh, hey, this one looks nice!" Morgan says, pulling me along behind her.

I mean, I'm still going to be dragged around, but I hopefully won't be a metaphorical dead weight in the relationship.

The place Morgan has found is… really normal. Normal by the standards of Earth though. The walls are painted a nice dark green, there are simple but elegant lamps above every table, the tables are darkwood and have nice blue tablecloths, and all the utensils are ready on any empty table including a folded napkin. It really does feel like a generic restaurant from Earth with the faux-riche look of a restaurant that wants to be fancy but doesn't have the cash to actually afford expensive decorations.

Morgan nudges me. We've been standing in the entryway for a solid ten seconds as I look around. "Is it really that good? Or bad?"

"It looks like Earth." I say quietly. "The napkins, the ornaments, the way the dishes and utensils are set out… it's just like Earth."

"Huh." Morgan turns her eyes to the elements I mentioned. "So on Earth, this is what a restaurant would have looked like?"

"Certain ones." I say. "Can't think of any specific ones off the top of my head, but I've certainly been to some like this before."

"Cool." Morgan says. "So this place is good?"

I mean, I don't know. Maybe the food is terrible, maybe it's super pricey, but I'm interested in eating here for the atmosphere, just so I can feel like I'm back home again. "Yeah, this place looks great."

Also, judging by the other patrons in the restaurant, I'm going to be massively out of place. I've still got my furs on, and everyone else here is at least decently dressed with overcoats or vests or fancy shirts with cravats. Morgan already looks a bit off because her coat is something out of a cult (literally) but it's fancy enough as to not draw too much attention. Me though? I don't even look close to the same class as everyone else.

"Hey, hi!" Morgan chirps when a server finally approaches. "We're looking to eat here! Quick question though, what're the prices like? We're not super cheap, but we ain't looking for something real rich."

"How… honest of you." The server says. I think he was going to say "blunt" then remembered he's supposed to be polite. "Half a gold is standard for one meal."

"That works!" Morgan says.

One gold? Tavern food is maybe half a silver for our entire group, and this is a whole gold for two people. Yikes. That's one hell of a price gouge. One meal here would take a farmer literally years to afford based on what I know about their income.

"Will your servant be standing by? Or is he eating with you?" The server asks, waving vaguely in my direction.

There we go. I knew that would happen at some point. Although you'd think with the way Morgan has her arm looped through mine that would have given him some indication that I'm not a servant. Am I supposed to speak up here? Maybe I should speak up.

"He's not a servant." Morgan says before I've finished my internal debate. She has her head held high and is looking down her nose at the server. That's an unnecessary amount of indignation in my opinion. I do look out of place. This was inevitably going to happen. "And yes, my companion will be eating with me."

The server raises an eyebrow but doesn't comment on the correction. He silently shows us to a table.

I'm mostly preoccupied staring at our surroundings and basking in the Earth-like surroundings, so much so that I kinda forget to look at the menu until the server has returned. Thankfully(?) the menu is really limited, so there isn't much for me to choose from while Morgan orders making the decision very easy.

The food isn't important. It really isn't. I'm too focused on the location, reveling in the feeling of being at home again to some degree. It's not exactly the same of course. The tablecloths are too high-quality, the lamps have actual flames in them, and the tables are too carefully detailed, but it's close enough for me.

I'm so desperate for something like home that even this poor imitation of a generic restaurant is enticing to me. That's depressing, but also very true.

Again, I have to remind myself not to ignore Morgan. She both found and is paying for this, and she's been patiently letting me look around without interruption so far.

"You said…" Morgan says quietly, catching my attention and dragging it back to her. "That this was like certain restaurants back on Earth?"

"Yeah. There were some generic ones, not cheap exactly, just standard, that looked like this. Except all the stuff would be more low-quality. This place is like what those restaurants back home wanted to be."

"So this reminds you of a generic place, huh?" Morgan grins. "Not sure they'd be happy to hear that."

"Too bad for them. I mean that as a compliment." I say. "The generic places usually weren't bad, in fact they were comfortable."

"I'm not sure that's what they're going for here." Morgan says.

"Well yeah, I know."

Morgan tilts her head slightly. "You do?"

"Sure. I noticed how the stuff here was expensive, didn't I? I figured this place wants to be sort of classy."

"Oh, good."

"Did you assume I was oblivious to it?"

"Well… yeah." Morgan admits. "You aren't exactly the most observant."

Fair. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Morgan says with a smile. "It's kinda cute sometimes actually. I don't mind explaining things."

I'm really going to have to get used to that. I can't get embarrassed every single time I get called cute. It just feels so weird to get a complement. I rarely ever used to get those. "Well good, because I imagine there's going to be a lot more of that when we actually get to Ylisstol…"

"Yeah…" Morgan murmurs. "Speaking of Ylisstol, I don't think it will happen but we should have a backup plan if we can't convince our parents of who we are. I hope it doesn't happen, but it never hurts to plan."

"Ah, right." I frown. I do remember that our current plan basically relies on me using my knowledge to convince the Shepherds that the future kids are actually future kids. No pressure or anything. "Well… I guess we'd just go find more of you future kids until Lucina reveals herself. We could go south for Laurent, though anyone else would require going to either the other continent or Plegia's west coast, both of which are dangerous for obvious reasons."

"I was expecting a plan about finding a way home for you." Morgan says honestly.

"That can be done at any point. The sooner the better, but making sure this world and all of you are going to be alright is a bit higher priority in terms of things to actively work towards."

"Aww, you do care."

"Was there ever any doubt?" I ask, genuinely curious.

Morgan waves it off. "Nah, just wanted to make a quip. Especially towards me it's super obvious. I mean, considering all that effort you spend to stop me from rolling into fires, which I only did once thank you."

"I stand by my choices. Don't want you hurt." I mumble.

"You also carried me around all the time."

"It was something I could do for you."

"So, again, you're extremely obvious." Morgan says with a wide grin. "Please don't stop. I love attention."

"I've noticed, as has literally everyone else who's ever talked to you."

"I hope so. I wouldn't want them missing out on the valuable chance to flatter me!"

"What a travesty that would be."

"Of course! After all, what could make someone happier than seeing me happy?" Morgan asks.

"Cake?"

"Well that's just unfair. How can I compare with cake?" Morgan huffs.

I mean, you're way better Morgan, but saying that would ruin the joke. "I'll have to remember that. You think you are inferior to cake."

"Let it be known! Cake is superior to the genius tactician!"

"I guess birthday cake is just an insult to you then."

"Birthday cake?"

I blink. "Is… is that not a thing here?"

"Not that I know."

I guess a lot of the poorer people here couldn't afford cake, so it makes sense that it's not an established tradition, but… "My disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined."

"Mm-hmm." Morgan hums. She digs into her coat for a moment and, to my confusion, pulls out her notebook, ink, and quill. "What kind of cake do you mean by the way?"

"Uh…" How do I describe birthday cake? "It's usually very soft, with icing."

"Icing?"

"It's… uh… sugar? A glaze sort of? The most common are vanilla flavoured and chocolate. Same goes for the cake itself."

"Right." Morgan scribbles that down in her notebook. I didn't figure that would be important enough to write down, but… maybe she's interested in trying it? "Also, while we're on the topic, what's your birthday?"

"March first."

"March?"

Shit. "This world has a different calendar, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. So, when's March? Actually, when does the calendar change to a new year?"

"Uh… early winter? December is the last month and about the start of winter, and then at the end of that month the year changes, and then there's roughly two more months of winter. March is the month after those two months."

"Okay." Morgan nods. "Actually… how many months in a year does your calendar have?"

"Twelve."

"How many days in a month?"

"Thirty or thirty one, alternating, except February which usually has twenty-eight with an additional day every four years."

"Right… so this world has sixteen months, four for each season."

"What."

"Each month is twenty five days."

"What."

"And each day is divided into fifty hours."

"WHAT."

"Okay, that last one was a joke. It's twenty four."

"Thank God that's normal." I sigh. "But sixteen months? Wow…"

"I guess that would be unusual to you, huh?" Morgan hums. "Also, for us the calendar switches over when spring starts, not during winter."

"What the fuck. I mean, that does make it a lot easier to keep track of, but…" I frown. "That's so weird. To me at least. I guess that would make my birthday some time within the first month then, or maybe at the start of the second? Spring's start was inexact back on Earth. It's starting point actually changed depending on the year."

"You think our calendar is weird, but you have seasons that change their starting point, a month that randomly has an extra day every four years and doesn't have as many otherwise, and an arbitrary starting point for the new year." Morgan points out.

"Okay, fair enough…"

"So what do we want to say your birthday is? First month? Start of the second?"

"I'm used to it being on a first day, so let's just say the start of the second month." I say. I feel like there's something I'm missing here. Is there something I'm supposed to say? To do? What is it…?

Wait, wait, this is obvious. I seriously need to start remembering these things.

"When is yours?" I ask quickly. Of course I need to ask that. It's an obvious thing that I should do. I can't just let this be about me, right? Or am I overthinking? How does this relationship thing work? How much are you supposed to think?

"Fifth of Pegasus."

"Pegasus?"

"Fourth month."

"Right." I nod. "Wait… winter ended just a bit ago, right?"

"Well it's been more than a month that's for sure." Morgan says. "I'm not sure if we're in the second or third month at the moment."

"Right." So basically, her birthday is soon. Right. Okay. Uh. Panic time? Panic later? Panic later. Don't forget. Purple then black, fifth of the fourth. Right. "I am so fucked. What is my three silver going to be able to get?"

Worry about it later. Just worry about it later. Soon, but later.

"Okay, so-" Morgan puts away her ink and quill and notebook. "If you're done, we should probably get to doing our actual mission."

"Oh, uh, yeah. That's probably a good idea." I say. "And after that, we can go look at that game shop."

"I totally forgot about that!" Morgan says eagerly. "We have to do that! Let's do our job quickly so we can do that!"

Chapter Text

"I didn't even know this was open…" I admit.

"What? Did you think taverns were only open at night?"

"Yeah. I didn't figure it was profitable for them to be open before dinner." I say.

"Well sure, but some people have rooms in taverns." Morgan reminds me while scoping out the room. "We slept in a tavern in that first town. It's not like they would just turn away people who actually rented rooms there."

"Right. That didn't cross my mind…" I say sheepishly. "Erm… what makes you think anyone here is even going to be able to direct us towards a mage? Shouldn't we be looking for, uh, richer people?"

"We will if this fails." Morgan says. "But if there's going to be any cheap mages we can talk to, then these people will know about them. If we talk to someone rich and we're likely going to get more costly recommendations because that's who they're likely to go to."

I hadn't considered that. This is why Morgan leads. She's smart. Though I'm not sure why we don't just talk to people outside rather than talking to people who are in the middle of something. I also had no idea how we were going to approach any of these people, they're all occupied in their drinks or conversations after all, but Morgan solves that rather quickly.

And when I say she "solves" that, I mean she walks right up to the closest person, a huge man a head taller than me with bulging muscles, and taps the table next to him to grab his attention. I'm not sure who's more surprised: the man, or me watching Morgan do this.

"Hi there!" Morgan chirps. "I've got a quick question if ya don't mind!"

"I do mind kid." The man says gruffly. "Kinda drinkin' here."

Morgan calmly tosses a silver onto the table and continues speaking like he didn't just tell her to leave. "So anyways, my and my companion are looking for a mage that can scry for us, but we can't afford anything too pricey, so if you're capable of telling us who we should find, or at least pointing us in the right direction, we'd appreciate it."

The man eyes Morgan tiredly, then sighs and nudges the silver back to her. "No idea kid. Ask someone else. Ain't never needed no mage."

"Thank you for your cooperation." Morgan says, maybe a bit too smugly. She then goes on to repeat the same process several times with other people in the room while I watch in mild horror as she butts into conversations and flagrantly bribes people into listening to her with silver.

Like, I know Morgan is confident, but I didn't expect a complete lack of care for social boundaries and calmly throwing money around. I'm fairly sure she's irritating all these people and the only reason they're talking to her is because she's shoving money in their faces.

Also, the bartender is glaring at Morgan, so I take the hint to grab Morgan by the arm and pull her out of the tavern.

"Aww, but I was getting somewhere." She pouts.

"You were also ten seconds away from getting thrown out by the bartender." I scold. "You can't just bother people like that."

"Can't I?"

"I- well not where some authority can see you." I cough. "I suppose if the bartender wasn't there you could have got away with it."

"Ahh, right." Morgan grins. "Noted."

I should have just said "don't bother people" instead of encouraging her to avoid authorities. I'm a bad influence. "How about we find some other taverns for you to get kicked out of?"

"Hell yeah!"

Morgan does end up getting a few leads after pestering enough tavern-goers. I also manage to get a lead by poking around some of the market stalls and asking if people know where to find the mage called "Jarvin" or "Darius" or "Lance" or whatever random name comes to mind, and by pure chance one of the stall owners knows that there is a mage called Lewis (they assumed I was getting the name wrong when asking for Lance) and points me towards the Siren's Call.

So maybe that's not a usable lead, because the Siren's Call is a super costly place to go, but I'm surprised I got any leads out of doing that.

Morgan's leads, once we look into them, are less costly but always useless. We actually track down a few of the mages, only to find out that Morgan is probably more skilled than they are and none of them know how to scry.

The last one we track down is a con-artist who pretends to do magic to swindle people who have never actually seen magic used before. Morgan threatens to fry him if he doesn't tell us where to find an actually competent mage, but he has no idea unfortunately.

So Morgan gives him advice on how to more accurately imitate magic to swindle people with more wealth, pats him on the back, and then leaves.

"He looks poor!" Morgan explains when I raise an eyebrow at her. "I couldn't not help him."

"After you threatened to burn him?"

"Well I had to see if he had information first." Morgan says unabashedly. "What else was I supposed to do?"

All of our viable leads so far are duds. Maybe we deserve that for shooting so low.

"What are we going to tell Kjelle and Noire?" I mumble.

"That we didn't find anything." Morgan shrugs. "No big deal."

"Kjelle is probably going to berate us for it."

"She'll just be jealous that we actually enjoyed ourselves." Morgan smirks. "I bet she spent the whole time searching and didn't enjoy herself at all. She probably did all the real work for us."

"You manipulative little… witch." I say, trying not to smile. "With a capital B. You're awful."

"Awfully smart!" Morgan preens. "Not to mention hot, and skilled, and-"

"Loud."

"I was going to say humble, but fine, be that way." She huffs. "What happened to you being a supportive boyfriend?"

"I am supportive, I told you to avoid authority figures. I'm just not nice. Two different things."

"I'm not sure encouraging my dubious actions counts as being supportive."

"I never said I was supporting good habits."

"Ah, so you are a corruptor of young women." Morgan grins. "Teaching me horrible, nasty, disgusting things."

"I'm teaching you to be a criminal, not a prostitute." I scoff.

"You say that like it's better to be encouraging illegal activity than lewdness." Morgan snorts. "I see how it is."

"'Tis much better to be a young woman of dubious morals than a degenerate." I say, holding my head up high. "There are men who will take a deviant girl, but no one wants a used toy."

Morgan immediately bursts out laughing. "Wow, way to make it sound awful! Planning to marry me off, are we?"

"Of course. What other use is there for a girl?" I sneer. "You may as well make me money in the meantime if you can learn to steal and sneak, but I'll be glad to trade you for a fat load of gold at the earliest possible convenience. Women are such insufferable wet blankets."

"You- ha-" Morgan tries to say, but devolves into a giggle fit. "I- I- hehe-!"

I have no idea what was so funny about that, but Morgan is laughing so much that she has to stop walking and lean against me. Something about our act this time made her break down, and I really don't get it, but it's great to see her so happy. "Why does me pretending to be a terrible person make you laugh so much?" I ask, and wrap an arm around her shoulders just to make sure she doesn't fall over, but I can't help but continue the act a bit in hopes to make her laugh more. "Honestly, women, so emotional…"

That only makes her laugh harder, and she clings to me to stop from collapsing. We're getting a few looks as you might expect from someone having a laughing fit in the middle of a street.

"Morgan, seriously, what's so funny about it?" I ask. I'm grinning now, and we don't need both of us collapsing in the streets because we're laughing too hard.

"I d-don't knooooow!" Morgan whines in between her laughter. "I- heh- something about y-you saying all that is just- hehe- hilarious!"

I think that's a compliment. "Well pull yourself together, wench."

"Stooooop!" She whines again, clutching her sides as I am now basically carrying her. Her expression is a wide-stretched smile that's probably going to hurt her face if she keeps smiling so much.

"I didn't put in all this effort training you just to end up with another hysterical woman."

She groans as her laughter genuinely starts to hurt her sides, and just so we can keep walking I pick her up off the ground and cradle her as she continues to weeze and giggle into the furs around my neck.

"I've never seen you laugh so hard." I say, and pat her back with one hand in a vague attempt to be helpful. Morgan has her face fully hidden in my furs and is no longer laughing uproariously, but her body is still shaking with laughter and she's hiccuping intermittently. "Uh, you are going to be alright… right?"

Morgan doesn't respond with words and instead slaps me on the chest with one hand, only to dig her fingers into the fur when she starts to snicker again a second later.

Noire and Kjelle stare when I walk into the inn carrying Morgan, who still hasn't recovered enough to talk above a whisper due to her laughing fit completely wrecking her voice. Noire thinks we got attacked, and Kjelle thinks it's another one of our acts.

Kjelle is not happy to hear all our leads were duds. She, at the very least, managed to find some useful leads.

###

"Remember, we're mercenaries." Morgan instructs. "Nathan, and I mean this as politely as possible, but please don't talk unless I tell you to. Just… cross your arms and try to look scary, or something."

"Fine." I mumble. I understand why. I'm the most likely to say something weird and get us unwanted attention. The best lead Kjelle got us has led us to a decently well-off part of the town. It's not one of the manions in the countryside, but it's still a nice house. "I'm not sure I can do scary though."

"Don't worry too much." Morgan says. "We need you here to make sure anything we see or are told is on-level and makes sense. Looking scary is a nice secondary, but unnecessary."

"Right."

With that out of the way, we approach the house. Morgan is in front with Kjelle next to her, and me and Noire behind. From what Kjelle heard, this mage (with the innocuous name of Matthew) is usually hired by merchants or ship captains with enough coin. He gives services like sending messages via magic (much faster than any conventional way), predicting weather (useful for planning future ventures), basic item enchantments (sometimes weapons but usually trinkets or clothes, and enchantments are often basic like making the item immune to wear and tear, or for a merchant it might be making the item grant the wearer some extra confidence or charm), and so on. Matthew is not cheap by most people's standards, he usually charges a gold or two per spell, but that's well within our price range.

Morgan knocks on the front of the door. I quietly suck in a breath and hold it. There's a tense twenty seconds as we wait for a response or any sign of life from inside the house. It eventually comes in the form of the door opening.

Matthew is… a dwarf. I don't mean that in the fantasy sense of dwarf, I mean dwarfism. He's small and thin and only comes up to Morgan's collarbone, but still looks distinctly adult with a pointed chin, boney fingers, slick yellow hair, and sunken, calculating grey eyes.

"Hellooo there." He says calmly. Even though he's shorter than everyone here, he has his head tilted far enough back to look down his nose at us. That can't be good for his neck. "Aaare you cuuustomers?"

"Yes." Morgan says, also holding her head high and looking down her nose. She and Matthew are engaging in a silent staring match. "If you're capable of scrying, anyways."

"Scryyying?" Matthew repeats. He holds out a hand. "I am moore than capable of doing that. Threeee gold for a scry."

"One now, two upon completion." Morgan says.

"Aaacceptable."

She hands over a gold, and Matthew beckons us inside. The house seems comically large compared to Matthew's size, and I can't help but notice all the doorknobs are lower than normal to accommodate him. They're so low I'd have to bend over just to reach them.

"For whaaat reason do you need a scryyy?" Matthew asks as we walk through the house, glancing back at Morgan in the process.

"We're looking for a friend. She came here to investigate rumors of a portal and didn't come back when she said she would, so we're here to find her." Morgan says.

Matthew hums and nods. He notably stopped looking at Morgan as soon as she said the word "friend". How odd. Was he expecting something else?

I don't think Matthew's spell room (is that what it would be called? What would you call it?) is meant to fit four people, but we carefully file into the room anyways. Matthew magics a large bowl (and I mean large, it's the size of a table) off a shelf and sets it down in the middle of the room and gestures for us to sit around it. With a snap of his fingers the bowl is filled with clear water, and he then takes a few seconds to pour some sort of sparkly powder inside.

"I will neeeed one of yooou to help me." Matthew says. "I caaannot scy on someone I dooo not know. Yooou will have to direeect the spell."

Morgan glances toward Kjelle and Noire, as they actually know what Nah looks like in person. Kjelle takes initiative and, as Matthew instructs her, puts her hands on the bowl and focuses on Nah.

"Nooow." Matthew says. "Fooocus on your target."

It takes a minute for the spell to properly take effect, but we notice instantly when it does. The water in the bowl ripples and distorts, and then settles into an image. At the center of that image is Nah. Just like everyone else from the game, her game portrait is startlingly accurate to her actual appearance. Just like all the other kids she has the hair color you see in official artwork, that being light green, and she's wearing her doll-like dress.

She's also sitting in a room, sitting cross-legged on a very basic bed while staring with furrowed eyebrows at a door. The room doesn't have much in it. There's the bed, a window with no opening latch, a table and a chair with an empty plate of food and a half-full glass of water, and a lamp up in the top corner of the room, well out of Nah's reach. The table and bed are also bolted to the floor, which is way suspicious. The room is well-painted and looks clean, but I have very little doubt it's a prison cell.

I glance at Morgan to see if she's noticed, and judging by the scowl on her face she's also figured it out. She speaks up. "Can we see anything else? The surrounding area?"

"Indeeed we caaan." Matthew says. He lightly drags a finger over the surface of the water, creating ripples, and when the water settles once more we have a different view. There's a mansion now taking up most of the picture. It's got… three visible levels, the walls are painted a mix of light and dark greys, and the roof is a stark purple and looks to be made of stone shingles. We can also see some well-trimmed hedges around the building.

"Can you tell us where this is, exactly?" Morgan asks. "Or let us see even more?"

"I can looocate it, yeees." Matthew says. "It will cooost another goold."

"Deal." Morgan says quickly. "Do it."

"Graaab my map." Matthew points to the side at a shelf, and Noire hastily grabs the item and hands it to him. Matthew unrolls the map, placing it on the ground next to him, and closes his eyes while keeping a hand on the bowl. It takes him a few seconds, but he eventually plants a finger on the map. "I haaave located your friiiend."

Morgan pulls out her notebook, ink, and quill, ready to draw a crude map because we don't have one, only for Matthew to say:

"I caaan give you the maaap, but-"

"Fine, here." Morgan cuts him off, giving him yet another gold and snagging and marking the map. Matthew smiles serenely, probably quite pleased with himself for getting such a large sum of money out of us. Five gold total just for a scrying spell and a map. Even I can tell that's a rip-off.

Still, we know where Nah is now. Maybe it's costly, but it will be worthwhile.

"Dooo come back agaaain if you have need of my seeervices!" Matthew calls after us as we leave the house. None of us answer him.

"Nah is in trouble." Is the first thing I say when we're a reasonable distance away.

"Yeah." Morgan agrees quietly. "She doesn't look injured, at least."

"She must not have her dragonstone." Kjelle adds. "Or else she could bust out no problem."

"I wonder." I say. "If that's the same mansion as her paralogue."

"It would make sense for it to be, wouldn't it?" Morgan says.

"Well yes, but that also has some worrying implications, because there were Risen in the mansion during her paralogue."

Those words bring a chill over the group, and we all come to the same conclusion.

"Grimleal." Kjelle says quietly. "It has to be."

"I hope Nah will be okay…" Noire mumbles.

"Grimleal are the religious nuts, right?" Morgan asks me.

"Yeah." I nod. "I also guess the game was misleading about Nah's situation. Based on her dialogue, I expected her to be walking around the countryside before ending up in the mansion because she seemed unfamiliar with the place and not particularly worse for wear."

"We've already established your creepy game isn't accurate all the time." Kjelle huffs. "That's not relevant now anyways."

Well yeah, but it's relevant for future reference. I have to figure out to what extent I can trust my game knowledge. It's my only asset!

"So, uh… I guess we have to break in and get her out?" I mutter. "How are we going to do that?"

"With magic and stealth." Morgan says. "Or some deception. You said before that my cloak looks sorta grimleal right?"

"Yes." It has the eye pattern and all the right colors. "I have no idea if it's an official look or anything though."

"Well, maybe just as a backup plan I could try and weasel my way into the trust of the mansion owner." Morgan says. "Maybe I've been sent from… uh…"

"Validar." I provide.

"Who's that?" Morgan blinks.

Oh, right, I never actually explained Validar to her, mostly because of the fact that it's her grandfather but Robin might not know that, so I wasn't sure if I should be mentioning it. I beckon her close and whisper in her ear. "Your grandfather."

Her eyes widen. "What?"

"Well, uh…" I make some awkward hand motions as I try to explain in a way that doesn't make me sound stupid. "He's the leader of the grimleal, and your father's father, but your father doesn't know that, so I wasn't sure if I should mention it before, and then I kinda forgot I didn't mention it."

She frowns. "That's sort of important Nathan."

"I know, it's just… remember how I don't like to reveal personal information about people?" I say. "It's like that, except your father doesn't know yet, so I wasn't sure if I should share. Also, he's an ass and will totally die at some point."

"I still would have liked to know." Morgan says. "Anything else you've avoided telling me?"

"Several things." I admit. "I… I don't want to change important events because I don't want to knock the world off a path I know can lead to victory."

"Hmm…" Morgan clearly does not approve. "Is it justified though?"

"What?"

"Do weird things have to happen to guarantee a win, or are you just worried that change might end up badly without a reason to assume so?" Morgan asks. "I'm trusting you to be truthful here Nathan."

Well fuck, okay, think. I haven't told her about things like the fact that Robin sort of gets mind-controlled because I have no idea if throwing that information out there will change the plan to something I can't predict. I suppose that isn't necessary to guarantee a win as far as I'm aware, but I'm worried that it might remove our chance to take out Validar if we somehow avoid the mind-control. I suppose that is just me being paranoid though. "I guess there's no guaranteed reason…"

"Then tell me next time we're alone." Morgan whispers. "Alright?"

"I- fine." I mumble. I don't want to, but fine. I know I'm being paranoid, and I do trust Morgan, but it still doesn't feel right.

"You wanted me to be truthful, this is just returning the favor." Morgan murmurs. "Right?"

"Right." That's a good point. I did tell her to share her plans, so this is only fair.

"Are you two done whispering?" Kjelle asks. "We need to get a move on!"

"It's nearly dinner time Kjelle." Morgan points out. "There's no point in travelling today."

"We could make a few hours of progress before sundown." Kjelle argues.

"Nope." Morgan says. "We're not leaving today. Deal with it. Me and Nathan still have another store to visit anyways."

"You're going to let Nah stay locked up in that cell so you can go shopping?" Kjelle snaps.

"Kjelle, three hours won't make a difference." Morgan says flatly. "It's not like she's going to be in any actual danger for another, what, year or two according to the game? Nah wasn't hurt, and it didn't look like she was being starved or anything, so shut up."

Kjelle grinds her teeth and glowers. "Your priorities are disgusting."

"And you're being irrational." Morgan says dismissively. "Besides, you didn't put up much of a fight before. You accepted my money even. Speaking of that, what did you two do with it?"

"None of your-"

"She got her armor repaired and paid extra to have it done today." Noire says. She digs into her pocket and hands about sixty silver back to Morgan. "I-I spent mine on some candy, and a new dagger, and I had lunch at a nice place."

Kjelle silently hands over one gold and forty silver. "Look-"

"I don't have my priorities straight, yadda yadda yadda." Morgan says, not even looking at Kjelle. "I get it, you don't know how to relax. I'm not going to be dragged down to your level. It's not like I'm putting off any significant travel to shop. There's no way we were going to leave today regardless of whether I had something else to do or not."

Kjelle's glare is full of hate. "Lucina would never have allowed this."

Morgan turns up her nose. "Well I'm not Lucina, and if she's so desperate that she's willing to ignore basic practicality of a good night's sleep in a good bed for the sake of a mere three hours of travel to fix a situation that is not even close to being life-or-death, which is a terrible decision, maybe she shouldn't be a leader either."

I'm fairly sure Lucina is a bit more logical than Morgan is pretending, because I don't think Lucina would necessarily agree with Kjelle's decisions. I bet Lucina would wait for tomorrow too, and Kjelle would accept it, but she doesn't want to accept it now because it's Morgan giving the order. Maybe it's something about the way Lucina conveys her orders, or maybe Kjelle is just loyal to Lucina, but something about Morgan pisses her off. Maybe it's Morgan's obvious ego.

"Don't you dare insult her Highness!" Kjelle snarls.

"I wan't. I was insulting your intelligence, and it's your fault that you were putting your own ideas in Lucina's mouth." Morgan says haughtily. "I'm sure she's a perfectly fine leader, but you aren't, so kindly shut the fuck up and let me do what I'm good at. I may make jokes of it, pretending like going shopping actually had any influence over whether we were going to leave being one of them, but I assure you I know exactly what I'm doing. You might be an uncaring golem who will wade through neck-high mud without a care and sleep on a bed of stinging insects to gain ten more seconds of travel time, but the rest of us are human, so until you gain even a modicum of strategic or tactical or logistical sense, or just common sense, don't even pretend you know better than I do."

Our group is absolutely silent. I'm not sure if Kjelle is going to punch Morgan, storm off, or start shouting. All three of them sound very possible. What happens instead though, is that she speaks in a quiet, if furious, voice. "You think I'm an idiot too."

"Yes." Morgan says bluntly, not caring how it might aggravate the situation. "Yes I do."

"Is it because of him?" Kjelle asks, pointing towards me. I suppose she's referring to our confrontation, and how I basically said I thought Kjelle was a moron who couldn't see the bigger picture. "Did he tell you I was a fool?"

"No, I figured it out on my own." Morgan says. "You've got quite a sense of self-importance if you assume we've discussed you at all outside of the context of the group."

I put a hand on Morgan's shoulder and squeeze, and when she glances at me I stare her in the eyes intently and whisper. "Don't make things worse."

Her nose wrinkles and her lips curl in disagreement, but she nods slightly and turns back to Kjelle. That's… honestly unexpected. It's pretty well established that she knows better than me when it comes to most things, so I'm genuinely surprised she's taking my advice. I expected her to take the stance of "Kjelle needs to be put in her place" or something like that.

"I know you don't like me." Morgan says. "Or my decisions, but for all the jokes I make I am using logic when I give orders. You don't have to like it or agree with it, but I'll thank you not to challenge me on literally everything just because you don't like it. We're not all grizzled warriors who will happily sleep on dirt just to prove how hardcore we are. Morale is not insignificant, relaxation is not insignificant, comfort is not insignificant, not even in the face of a battle or a mission, and the sooner you understand that the better. We just spent a week on a boat after multiple months in the bush or crappy tavern rooms, with our only outlet being crossing our fingers and praying there was something of interest in the towns we came across. I am not asking much of you, and Nah will be fine. Yes, we are giving up a few hours of progress, but we will be more well rested and in higher spirits for it, and that is not a non-factor."

Kjelle continues to glare, but doesn't look like she's planning to immediately strangle Morgan anymore. There's no more talking until we get back to the inn. We then decide (and by "we" I mean me and Noire) that me and Morgan will go to the store now and when we come back we'll figure out dinner.

Me and Morgan also walk in silence for about half the distance, at which point Morgan finally mumbles. "Kjelle's a bitch."

"Yeah." I say quietly. "You really weren't helping though."

"I know." Morgan says.

"Did you?"

"...no. I just assumed I was after you told me to tone it down." Morgan admits. "I thought I was putting her in her place before that."

Ah, so I was right about her thoughts. "Well you certainly did that… and then some." I cough. "I'm not saying you shouldn't have berated her, it's just that you went too far. I think, maybe, probably." For all I know Kjelle was more in the right. I can absolutely see where Kjelle was coming from. We are putting off time we could be spending getting to Nah for a bit of comfort, but giving up any sort of comfort to always push ahead on whatever mission we have at the moment is also unreasonable.

I don't really know who was right in this situation. Yes, our travel has been annoying, but it wasn't so unbearable that we need to be desperate for comfort. At the same time… some relaxation really is appreciated. It's been half a year (Earth time at least… it's so weird that they have a different number of days) since I've been able to sleep in a nice bed, or go to a restaurant. At the same time, if we moved at a constant scramble to get all the future kids that would be hellish because we'd never have time to relax and enjoy life.

"It felt good to yell at her, to be honest." Morgan admits. "It was refreshing."

"I'd imagine so." I say. Yelling at someone can really take the weight off your shoulders, even if you get in trouble for it. Not that I'd recommend that exactly, but I understand the feeling. "Might I suggest finding some other way to vent next time though?"

"What? Would you prefer I complain to you?" She asks.

"Sure." I say.

"Really?"

"Yep. You've done it once before, remember? Or did you forget?" That was on the ship, after I spent ten minutes whining about having to do work.

"I thought that was a one-time thing." She admits.

"Morgan, I complain to you literally all the time." I remind her. "You can do the same to me. I'm not going to mind."

"Okay…"

"So maybe save the yelling at Kjelle for when she really deserves it."

"I can't yell at her every time she opens her mouth Nathan."

"Fine, when she really really deserves it."

"Aah…" Morgan hums. "I see."

I pat her on the shoulder. "Feeling savage today though, aren't we?"

"Feeling tired." Morgan sighs. "Honestly, I think that laughing fit I had really took it out of me."

"Serves you right, bitch."

She snorts, then groans. "Nathaaan. Dooon't."

"What's so funny about it today? It wasn't before."

"I dunno honestly." Morgan admits. "It just struck me as really weird because it was you trying to be all sexist and mean, and you're probably the least scary and least domineering person I've ever met, and that was funny."

I think that's a compliment. A slightly roundabout compliment, but a compliment. "Well I can't have you dying on me every time we do an act, so as much as I like seeing you laugh I hope you don't break down every time we do an act like that."

"I shouldn't. Morgan says. "It just struck me as acutely funny this one time."

"Good." I say. "Though it's a shame I won't be able to make you laugh all the time now."

Morgan smiles at hearing that. Good, she's gotten over her anger at Kjelle, or at least she's distracted from it. "Is my laugh just that incredible?"

"Basically." Not particularly, I just like that it means she's happy. "Though the fact that you like being insulted… hmm…"

"Lewd girl?" She chirps, spouting one of my standard responses with a shit-eating grin on her face.

"Lewd girl." I affirm, and poke her nose. "Or maybe kinky girl is more accurate."

"Hey, I'll take either, or both. They're accurate." Morgan shrugs.

###

As it turns out the board game shop… has board games. Some of them look pretty interesting, but most of them are pretty basic. I guess I take for granted how easy it is to make pieces and detailed boards on Earth and how much that opens up the possibilities for board games, but seeing the selection before me makes it clear just how underwhelming the variety actually is.

Wait, why is the wargaming scene so developed here, but board games are mediocre? I wonder if it has something to do with the personalization of the miniatures in wargaming. Like, if you're rich, it's cool to have your own custom-painted selection of miniatures, but having a detailed board game just isn't as impressive or rewarding? Or maybe the fact that you have to put in more effort for wargaming is actually a good thing in the eyes of the rich, as it's that much more impressive when you show off your army?

Hmm… the mysteries of wealth… also, I smell a major business opportunity, one that I actually might be able to pull off. I don't know anything about science, but I remember plenty of good board games.

Something something copyright, but whatever, this is a different world. If the companies can track me down to enforce it, then… that's kinda scary because apparently copyright extends across dimensions and some companies know how to dimension hop.

Also, a lot of the board games seem to involve colored marbles or pebbles of some sort. I wonder why that is. But I think this world could really benefit from the invention of Settlers of Catan or Scythe or something.

I have to make Scythe. My favourite board game hands down. There's no way I'm going to remember all the event cards or the position of every tile though, so I'm going to have to improvise.

Also, there's no rule books for any of these games. The store owner has to tell us how they work individually, which is hella annoying. The owner isn't cool like Keene was either, and he looks kind of annoyed with us to be honest.

"Hmm…" Morgan frowns. She speaks in a quiet voice so the owner can't hear us. "A lot of these games are sort of… simple? Underwhelming?"

"Yeah, same thought here." I agree. "Not all of them are bad though. Sometimes simple games are good."

"Some of them are so simple that there's nothing to them though." Morgan says in frustration. "And the other half are all luck, no strategy. I don't mind some luck, but I'd prefer a bit more substance in my games."

"Same." I nod. "I know a few games we can make that should scratch a strategy itch, but making the boards and pieces might be a pain."

"Good thing we only need to make it once then."

"Unless I want to make a business out of it." I say, throwing my idea out there. "I mean, if I know a lot of games this world has never seen, might as well take advantage, right?"

"That's not a half bad idea." Morgan agrees eagerly. "You could probably make some serious money from that."

"We could." I agree.

"We?"

"Well, if you want in." I offer. "And besides, if I ever end up going back to Earth I'd obviously leave what I have to you."

"Ahh." Morgan hums. "That does sound fun. Games could literally be our job."

"Exactly." I say with a wide grin. "And we'd never have to worry about a lack of games if we're the ones making them."

"We'd have to figure out how to make them efficiently." Morgan muses. "Especially if some of them are complex."

"We don't have to recreate them in full visual detail, just enough that you can play them." I remind her. I don't have to do the art for all the cards in Scythe, I just need readable cards, and the mechs don't have to be that detailed, and the board doesn't need art either it just needs the trackers and resource identifiers. Sure, if I could recreate games in full detail I'd love to, but purely on a practical level that won't work, however we should be able to manage a simplified version of the games in terms of visuals. Artwork is secondary to gameplay in games after all.

Yes… I think I like this idea. This is something I could actually see myself enjoying in this world. Video games may not exist in this world, but board games are an acceptable substitute. This is putting aside the fact that I have no idea how to run a business of course, but that's a hurdle that can be crossed later.

"I think I like this plan." Morgan says. "We shall be the game masters, bestowing our otherworldly games upon this drab world like the divine gifts that they are!"

"Does that make us gods then?" I ask. "If we are bestowing divine gifts? The gods of games?"

"Exactly." Morgan says. "We will have to dress appropriately as we gift our inspired masterpieces to the dimwitted humans."

The shop owner is giving us a flat stare as we do our bit in the middle of his shop. I'm honestly surprised he hasn't kicked us out yet.

"By the way." I mumble. "Maaaybe we should buy something since we've been fucking around in the store for so long, and there are some decent games."

"Ah, right, being polite." Morgan huffs. "Okay, fine, which one do we think?"

We end up buying Barrels because they have a copy here and Morgan remembered she wanted to buy it.

Chapter Text

"You don't spit into the wind." I sing under my breath. "You don't pull the mask of that old Lone Ranger and you don't mess around with Jim."

The group has been understandably tense since Morgan and Kjelle's confrontation yesterday. That tension has so far manifested as a refusal by the two to talk to each other, and our group splitting into two pairs as we march (granted, we're always in two pairs, but in this case specifically…) with Kjelle and Noire staying a dozen or so meters in front of us at all times as we travel.

Morgan has been unusually quiet for the most part. I don't really think it has much to do with Kjelle though. She's muttering plans under her breath, and will occasionally speak up to bounce something off me to see if I can find any faults. The most common problem she's running into is our simple lack of manpower. We can't attack the mansion head-on with our limited numbers, especially with the knowledge that there might be mire users.

Stealth plans fall apart with the possibility of shifting walls. Nah's paralogue has walls rising and falling, and that will totally screw with our ability to get around quickly or remember paths, and that's not taking into account the possibility that the walls can be actively controlled. So far, Morgan's best plan involves trying to get into the mansion as a servant to scope the place out, but that's risky as none of us are particularly skilled at deception nor know how to do usual servant tasks. It's not that we couldn't do them (with the exception of me, as I might not know how something works) but that we couldn't do them well enough to pass as actually skilled servants. We'd either get fired or found out real quick.

Still, Morgan continues to mull over possibilities, and I avoid distracting her by keeping my voice down. Travelling is infinitely more dull without being able to talk to Morgan all that often.

"I should have asked for a better view." Morgan says suddenly, just before lunch. "I just- I can't make a detailed plan without knowing the terrain. I don't know where the entrances are going to be, or the windows, or if there's a river entry somewhere for bringing in supplies. We're going to have to scout. At the very least I need to know what's outside of the manor."

"We'll scout when we get there then." I say. "No problem. You can't be expected to plan for everything."

"But I'm a tactician, that's my job." Morgan grumbles.

"Boy, being a tactician is tough. Got to plan for four-hundred headed hydras when invading a manor." I say sarcastically.

"You know what I mean." Morgan huffs.

"Yeah, but you also see my point." I retort. "You're a genius, not a literal god that can process all possible variables of any situation in one day. Actually, I don't think Sothis can do that either, so you'd have to be more than a god… dess. Goddess technically." Are all the Fire Emblem gods female? I don't know enough about the pre-Awakening games to be able to answer that. I think there's one called Yune…?

"But how am I supposed to prove my mental superiority if I don't have a detailed and complete battle plan ready before I've even gotten a proper look at the location we'll be dealing with?" Morgan asks rhetorically. "It doesn't matter if I'm a genius if no one knows Nathan! I have to rub it in their faces!"

Ah, so we've delved into joke territory. I'm going to assume my point was made and Morgan is now transitioning into our usual routine as an acknowledgement of that. "They're not going to know if your plan is last-minute or not. As long as the plan is fantastic and they are sufficiently outsmarted, you can consider their senses of self-worth sufficiently annihilated." I say. "And you can loudly proclaim your superiority to everyone in earshot… after we leave the island and the earshot of any friends the mansion owner might have."

"And you'll keep reminding me of how much of an utter genius I am, right?"

"I do that already." I remind her. A grin crosses my face as something comes to mind. "And I thought it was insults you liked."

Morgan shrugs, also smiling. "Insults, compliments, as long as it's about me."

"Shameless. Absolutely shameless."

"What? I just enjoy getting feedback of all kinds." Morgan says with faux innocence.

"Feedback is it now?" I scoff. "Suuure. 'Feedback'. Right, got it. It has nothing to do with being the center of attention."

"Well I never said that." She says, grinning widely. "So more compliments please!"

"It never occurred to you that I already flatter you too much?"

"You can flatter someone too much?"

In hindsight that's very in-character of her to say. "You're lucky you're cute."

"Luck has nothing to do with it." Morgan says, and holds her head high and tosses her hair over her shoulder. "It's a result of my brilliant mind."

"Because physical attractiveness has always been correlated with intelligence." I say dryly.

"Of course." Morgan preens. "That's why I'm vastly superior to everyone else in every conceivable way. I can't believe you managed to land me without even considering this."

"I suppose I have an astounding amount of good luck then."

"Damn straight!"

###

Despite how developed the island is, there are surprisingly few inns outside of the port town. Morgan thinks it might be because, due to this being a place for rich people, if you come further into the island it's probably because you own a place so inns are unnecessary because there are rarely any travellers.

And so, despite being right near town, we are forced to find somewhere to camp for the night as the only inns that do exist there are absurdly expensive.

So that's how our group finds itself nestled between a fallen tree and a rocky hill several dozen meters away from a main path.

You can see a distinct difference in flora on this island compared to the Feroxi mainland. The Feroxi mainland had pine and other coniferous trees for the most part, the ones that survive well in the cold. This island has some more tropical trees, I think, though I don't recognize any in particular so I can't say for sure. Basically, I don't see any palm trees. I'm not familiar with other tropical tree types. For all I know, these trees are entirely unique to this world. I'm assuming the trees are tropical due to large leaf sizes, but I don't know botany so I have no idea if that's relevant or not.

I wonder if mangroves exist in this world. I've seen some when I've gone on vacation before. They're super cool.

There are also different animals, and this I do know something about. When it comes to islands, they tend to have very unique ecosystems and might have species that you won't find anywhere else due to being sheltered away from the rest of the world. Admittedly that makes them especially vulnerable to invasive species, as being so sheltered means that the species on the island might lack tools to deal with new threats. Not that invasive species aren't always a problem, but they cause extra damage to islands.

Anyhow, for animals, I've seen what I think is an albatross, some lizards (which I didn't see at all in Ferox), a toad, and some weird mammal that I can't identify. A mongoose maybe? It sort of reminded me of… yungoos.

It was probably a mongoose then. Noire shot it and we ate it. I don't think mongooses are something you usually eat on Earth, and I can see why. They taste awful.

In addition to all that, we suddenly don't need our extra blankets anymore. It's now warm enough, due to use moving south and it becoming spring, that the weather isn't as cold. It's not too warm that I can't snuggle with Morgan around the fire at least.

Knowing Morgan's interest in games, I've recently taken to explaining any and every game I can remember. I think I'm just whetting her appetite to actually be able to play them at some point, based on how often she says some variant of "I have to play that!"

Kjelle has been brooding the entire day in silence. She puts intense focus into maintaining her spear and trains quietly off to the side of the camp. I'm honestly surprised there hasn't been more arguing, but Kjelle hasn't brought up the confrontation at all. I don't know if that's a good sign and she's accepted Morgan's leadership or if she's stewing in spite.

Noire has been similarly quiet, though that's not unusual for her. She was never chatty before and I don't think that's going to change. I have no idea how much the conflict has affected her because she really just doesn't talk.

I'm tempted to try and talk to Noire, but considering the last time I tried to do that didn't go so well I refrain from trying.

I must also admit I'm worried for how we're going to free Nah. I doubt this is something I'm going to be able to avoid, I'm almost certainly going to have to participate. I won't complain, but I am worried. If we end up fighting, I'm the most likely member of our team to die or get injured due to my inexperience. I'm hoping Morgan thinks of a plan that involves deception rather than combat, but considering the manor owner might be grimleal I don't have high hopes.

###

"I can see for miles!"

"Morgan, you're on my shoulders, not a tower."

"I should have done this earlier! Why didn't I think of this?!"

"You tried. There were too many trees."

"This is great!"

"You've stated as much several times." I don't see what's so fantastic about it, but I won't complain if she's enjoying herself.

"Don't pretend you don't like it too!" Morgan huffs. "You have a cute girl's thighs around your head! That's the best thing ever, and don't you try and deny it!"

Ignoring, of course, the fact that she has very bulky pants on which kinda reduces anything even vaguely exciting about it, but I'm not about to say that. I wouldn't put it past Morgan to do something weird if I mentioned that. Lewd girl…

Morgan is so much different than I expected considering how she is in the games. There are some similar traits of course, like her absolute shamelessness when it comes to her own decisions. I remember supports where she flagrantly manipulates people with maybe a token apology at the end but no real indication that she felt bad for her manipulation. There's also her sadism of course, which she has in small amounts both in supports and in reality. The differences in Morgan are pretty noticeable though. There's obviously the fact that she's a lewd girl which wouldn't come up in game because, well, it's a Nintendo game. Family friendly and all that bullshit. Her massive ego, which I think is half joke half real, wasn't really touched upon in game either.

"No retort? I was right on the nose, wasn't I?" Morgan preens. She squeezes her legs around my neck. "I know, I'm a genius, and my thighs are great."

"Uh-huh, sure." I say, and absently pat her lower leg. "We'll go with that."

"Aww, c'mon, at least play along!" Morgan pouts. "Indulge your girlfriend!"

"I do that literally all the time." I remind her. "And besides…" I poke her thigh. "Your chicken legs ain't gonna do shit for no one!"

"How dare you!" Morgan gasps while smiling. "I'll have you know I put in a lot of effort to keep myself as toned as I am! Tone! You hear that!? Not skinny!"

"Who cares about tone?" I scoff. "I demand thickness!"

"Oh that's how it is?" Morgan huffs. "I'm too much of a thin bitch, huh? You only go for women with thighs the size of your head? Probably chests too."

"Exactly." I say, and try to sound as snobby and pretentious as possible. "A thin waist is required however. The hourglass figure is paramount! The more exaggerated the better! Waists the size of a dime! Hips larger than a horse! That is what I desire!"

Morgan snorts. "Very high standards you have there."

"Not only for women! Men have their own standards they must meet!" I proclaim. They must have ten pack abs, chest muscles the size of window frames, and boulders for biceps!"

"You don't even meet your own standards."

"I'm working on it!" I say indignantly. "Perfection is not achieved overnight! Honestly, your expectations are so unrealistic!"

Morgan promptly starts laughing, and I can't hold character and follow suit a moment later.

###

So there it is. The manor. The outer wall of the manor at least. As you might have expected, whoever owns the manor also owns a lot of surrounding land, so we can't actually see the manor proper from here. Nah is in there somewhere.

"I can't see over the wall." Morgan grumbles. Even sitting on my shoulders, the outer hedge is too tall for her. Strictly speaking it's the hedge that is blocking her view and not the wall itself, because the hedge is behind the wall, but that's just technicalities. "Maybe Noire could see?"

"She'd probably have to sit on your shoulders to maybe be able to look over." I point out. "It might be better to find a tall tree to climb than to try and peek over the hedges like this."

"M-Maybe we can get a tour?" Noire suggests. "I-If we flatter the owner enough, he might be happy to show us around."

That is an interesting idea. I didn't expect that from Noire. Morgan seems to agree. "That might be something we can do! We do have some cute girls in our group… and Kjelle and Nathan. It would depend on how open the owner is though, or if we can even get in contact with him. How are your acting skills by the way? Can you do the shy, bashful type? Not the way you are usually, I mean shy, bashful, and interested. If you're standoffish it won't help."

"I-I can. I've done it before." Noire nods. I'm now slightly concerned about why she would have had to act that part before.

"And you." Morgan looks at Kjelle. "Can you restrain your battlelust for an hour or two if you have to?"

"I can." Kjelle says curtly. There's no hostility in her tone despite Morgan's slight jab. She's completely serious. "However I am needed, combat or otherwise, I will perform. For Nah's sake."

Thankfully Morgan is acute, so she picks up on Kjelle's attitude change, and the reason for it, and treats it with appropriate respect. "Cool. There's a chance, if we can somehow get a tour, that we'll have to leave weapons behind. If you can play the part of a knight aspirant, maybe we convince them to let you keep your lance."

"This is all theoretical at the moment?" Kjelle asks.

"Yeah." Morgan nods. "But it never hurts to run through ideas."

"In that case." Kjelle says. "There is a possibility that there are others who can give us the information we need. Thieves who have infiltrated successfully, bribable guards, or even a political, social, or business enemy who might be willing to give us some help."

"Also a good idea." Morgan nods. "Either way, we're going to have to do some asking around. We need info."

Getting info turns out to be more difficult than expected, and it also turns out that Noire is our best way of getting it.

Asking around shops and the tavern (sorry "fine drink establishments", apparently "tavern" is too common for the people of this town) we get absolutely no luck trying to find anything out. People raise their eyebrows at us, brush off our (made up) reasons for wanting information, and generally give me the impression that they either know we're bulshitting them or just don't want to talk with sketchy outsiders. I don't know if it's because we might look poor (I do at least) or just because we're from outside, but they stonewall any attempts we make to get information.

And then Noire says "l-let me try", walks up to a random merchant, and starts talking. I know the saying is cliche, but it really is like someone flipped a switch. Noire's entire demeanor shifts, and visibly so. Even the way she carries herself changes. She goes from hunching and shuffling to standing straight, holding her head high, and walking with confidence. She doesn't frown or glance around furtively, but stares her target directly in the eye and smiles warmly. When she starts talking with the merchant (we can't quite hear what's being said because there's too much other noise), he responds much more openly and calmly than people have been with us so far.

"What the heck?" Morgan whispers. She glances at Kjelle. "Did you know she could do that?"

"I did." Kjelle admits. "It's just as strange to me every time. Noire has always been good at putting on a front when she needs to, but she avoids doing it whenever she can."

Okay then. I guess Noire has some hidden depths. Gotta remember she's more than a game character. Still, I didn't figure she was capable of faking such confidence.

So, uh, anyhow… Noire is apparently good at getting information out of people. She simpers and smiles and laughs and brings her hand up to her chest in surprise and… it's really just weird to see her do that. She's been shy the whole time, for literal months, and now this?

The merchant points Noire to somewhere and she smiles and thanks them before striding off in that direction. The rest of us follow at a safe distance. If Noire can handle this, we shouldn't get in the way.

So Noire goes around talking to people while the rest of us watch in surprise. Morgan is very unsubtly trying to listen in on Noire's conversations to moderate success. She actually takes out her notebook and starts scribbling down notes. I peer over her shoulder to see what she's writing… only to be reminded I can't read the language here. Right.

It's surprising how infrequently I need to read. It's infrequent enough that I often forget I'm effectively illiterate.

"I think it might have something to do with word choice." Morgan says, answering my unasked question. "And she's using very particular body language. Confident, but not aggressive. Curious, but in a way that doesn't seem intrusive. Notice how she does take the shy role when talking despite confidence otherwise. One leg kicks the ground a bit or hooks around the other and all that, and she kinda turns her head away. Noire really knows how to make use of girlish charms. Who knew, huh?"

Morgan picked up all that from a few minutes of observation? Okay then. I just assumed it was working because Noire was less blatantly suspicious than the rest of us, and because she's a pretty face. That works too though.

Noire does her best, and when she eventually comes back to us she has this to say: "Apparently that manor belongs to someone called Sir Bernard Von Drachen. He's been here for nearly a decade. Apparently he's friendly, but doesn't get along with church-types."

That makes sense for a grimleal.

"And how can we get in contact with him?" Morgan questions. "Did you ask?"

Noire nods. "He actually runs the town's inn and shows up there often. It's not unusual for him to befriend travellers and invite them for a tour of the mansion."

"Well that's hella suspicious." I say. "Good find Noire."

"Yeah." Morgan agrees. "But, uh, you can stop with the act if you want."

Noire, who up until this point had still been standing tall and smiling, quickly hunches and her expression returns to her usual nervous one. "I-It's so uncomfortable doing that…"

Kjelle pats her on the back. "You did well."

This gives us an easy lead. Now we just need to find out how to make use of it.

"I think our plan has to involve befriending Bernard." Morgan says. "It's too easy a path not to use. The problem is that we don't know if we'll get out of the manor in order to be able to use any scouting information we get. I think it's obvious that this whole 'befriending travellers' thing is a way for him to search for people to take. Even if it isn't, we don't know that and have to assume it is."

"So we need to scout anyway." Kjelle says. "And then make a plan around being able to get in via befriending Bernard."

"Exactly." Morgan says. "So we still might need a big tree."

"There is a chance…" I say. "That Bernard doesn't capture everyone who he invites, just the people that show potential. So if, say, I were to befriend him and somehow get a tour first, it's unlikely he'd see anything useful in me and I'd return without issue."

"Too risky." Morgan says. "Besides, you're too suspicious. Your accent is all wrong, you use weird idioms and terms, and you know way too much about way too much. If you let anything suspicious slip, you might get in trouble."

"Ah, alright." I mumble. Of course my plan would suck. My suggestions have always been the least useful.

"If we had someone who could be not-suspicious we might be able to do that plan." Morgan acknowledges, "but as of right now that's not viable."

"Okay." I know Morgan doesn't intend it, but her comment really feels like she's rubbing in how poorly thought-out my plan was.

"We still have time today." Kjelle says. "We should find that tree if that's actually our plan."

"Okay then!" Morgan claps her hands. "Tree time!"

Bernards's estate has the main road on the west side (too many people for us to climb something) and some farms to the south (I guess it would be impractical to import all their food. You want some stuff fresh after all) with too many farmers visible for us to feel comfortable climbing a tree, even if we're at a considerable distance. East, however, is forest.

Finding a suitably tall tree isn't exactly difficult, but it sure does take a long time to find one we can climb without being suspicious. Most of the trees are along a main path with people occasionally walking along it, so we obviously can't use those. There is a forest around the back of the estate, but that's problematic because the forest extends into Bernard's land, and blocks our view.

"We might be able to sneak in that way." Morgan points out. "Those trees will hide us as well."

Morgan climbs a tree in the forest anyways to check if there are guards in the forest. She doesn't see anything, which is good news for us. We now know of a great entrance or exit point. Fleeing into the woods is a decent way to lose people. Probably. I'd have to ask Morgan.

The north side of the estate has more forest. In particular, there's a large river that dips into and out of the estate, and people are stopped from entering by large iron gates.

"Guards." Morgan says quietly as we walk closer, and she nudges us into walking further out. "Now that's odd. Only the front entrance had guards before this. Why does this side and this side alone warrant guards otherwise?"

"M-Maybe it's easy for people to get in through the river?" Noire suggests.

"Well it's not exactly difficult to climb the fence elsewhere." Morgan notes. "Unless the fence is enchanted…"

That would be problematic. We'd have to find a different way to get in. "Maybe we can test it? Throw a rock or a stick at the fence and see if it burns up or gets zapped?"

"That's… not the kind of enchantment I was thinking of." Morgan mutters. "I was thinking of a force rebounder."

Kjelle and Noire both nod, and Kjelle speaks. "Those are fairly standard for anyone who has something to protect and enough money to spend on protecting it. If you throw something at a force rebounding wall, it's going to launch it right back at twice the speed. If you try to climb one, you'll get punted off when you try to grab it or plant your feet. Spells get rebounded too. If you want to get past a force rebounding wall you need to disenchant it, go straight over, use so much power that the enchantment doesn't have enough power of it's own to effectively reflect it, or have a magic "key" so-to-speak that lets you interact with it safely. I imagine the guards have one such item."

"If the fence is enchanted." Noire mutters.

"Well we can still test." I say. "Just throw something at an angle so it bounces away, right?"

"I suppose that works." Kjelle shrugs. "Let's do that after we scout though. There's a chance that Bernard has the fence enchanted to alert him if someone messes with it. If we're going to test the fence, we need to leave right after."

After we're sure the guards haven't noticed us, Morgan climbs another tree to peer over the hedges while the rest of us hide in the brush. When she climbs back down, she has this to say: "So... there's a building there. Looks sorta like a storage shed. It goes overtop of the river, totally covers it. There's also a secondary interior wall around just the shed with guards there too."

Okay, that's a dead-ringer for "suspicious as hell". It would probably show up in the dictionary under "suspicious". Do dictionaries exist in this world? If I remember correctly, dictionaries were a more modern creation.

"Interesting, but not our problem." Kjelle says. "It's not like Nah is going to be kept in the shed."

"So we know we need to get out through the east probably." Morgan says. "Where this river isn't. That will provide us cover as we run."

"We need to test the fence." I say. "So we know if we can climb it or not if we're going to get out."

"Right, right." Morgan nods. "Let's go back around to the east side where there aren't any guards."

We do so, and I'm given the "honor" or testing the fence. I find a random branch, pull back my arm, and launch the branch at the fence at an angle. The branch sails awkwardly through the air, and just when it looks like it's about to hit the fence it clashes with something that flashes bright white and sends the branch smashing into the dirt where it snaps apart on impact.

"Yep, that's a force rebounder." Kjelle mutters. "We're going to need another way over the wall."

"Or a key." Morgan reminds her. "Let's leave for now. We don't know if they have an alert system or not."

###

We find the inn Bernard owns and, finding it to be surprisingly reasonably priced, check into it. I also spend nearly half an hour pestering Kjelle with questions about the force rebounder, and I learned that for military use it's actually not that helpful because you need a stupid amount of power to be able to reflect something like a catapult boulder, and strong enchantements generally can't be kept active by passive energy intake and need dedicated magic flows and that would be very costly to keep up.

Apparently enchantments have continuous power requirements, but minor enchantments can just pull from the general mana of the world around them to sustain themselves. If you want a powerful enchantment, or even something like a normal force rebounder, you need something extra. Either you need to feed the enchantment manually with your own power be it continuously or like charging a battery, or you need something else to do it for you like a dedicated mana gem or crystal.

Mana gems and crystals have two general categories. Containers, and generators. Mana containers are something you can deposit energy into and take it out again at a later date. Mana generators passively create mana (more so than normal anyways, as technically everything passively generates mana) in a constant flow. Whether a certain crystal or gem is a generator or container tends to depend on exactly what sort of gem or crystal it is. In addition, almost any gem can be turned into a mana container, even if it was a generator or simply not magic before, but mana generators are all only naturally occurring with no known way to create them. Also, just because certain types of gems can be mana generators or containers does not guarantee they will be. Rubies can be containers, but not all rubies are containers. Some are just rubies.

"Bernard is probably using a generator to power the force rebounder." Kjelle theorizes. "If he has enough money, he should be able to get a generator. They're rare, but not so rare as to be exclusive to only the military or royalty."

Long explanation short, mana containers and generators exist, force rebounders are (usually) anti-personnel defences due to energy economy, and the enchantment is likely powered by a mana generator.

"What acts as a key?" I ask. "You said something about a key that lets you interact with the gate safely?"

"It might not be a literal key." Kjelle says. "Badges, or some sign of employment, is usually enchanted to let the wearer bypass the force rebounder of their employer's estate. I could even be the uniform itself."

"Can you sense magic?" I ask Morgan. "If we take down a guard, can you figure out what's enchanted?"

"Definitely." Morgan nods. "Sensing mana is a super basic mage skill. Remember the resistance charm I gave you? That's how I knew you needed it. I can sense you have zero mana."

"Doesn't that just mean he isn't magic?" Noire mumbles. "It says nothing about his resistance."

"You know magic?" Morgan asks, surprised. "Well, yeah, technically you're right, but I've tested his resistance too"

"You have?" I blink. "How?"

"The shaving spell." Morgan says simply. "Using a spell on yourself bypasses your resistance, because your body doesn't recognize your own magic as something it needs to resist, and that means my resistance to my own spells is effectively nothing. Because I spend just as little power using the shaving spell on you as myself, I therefore know you have literally zero magic resistance or I'd have to use at least some extra power."

"Oh." I never did ask how she knew I had no resistance. I guess that explains that.

"So anyhow." Morgan waves her hand to get our focus. "Tomorrow we need more info. What we got today was nice, but we don't want to be going in blind. We need to talk to a servant, or someone who's actually been inside the manor before. We need some sort of idea of how the manor is laid out and where we should be looking for Nah. Having a vague escape path is nice and all, but we really need more."

"We can only get so intrusive before we make ourselves suspicious." Kjelle warns. "We will have to accept uncertainty at some point and take action regardless."

"No plan survives contact with the enemy." I chime in. "Not that having a plan isn't helpful, but…"

"I know, I know." Morgan says. "Are we going to go with the mercenary cover story again?"

"I don't see why not." Kjelle says. "Unless you have a different idea?"

"Well Morgan does look grimleal." I remind everyone. "We could try to concoct a plan with that. Actually, if she's going to wear her coat, it's going to be necessary that we have an explanation for that I think."

"Fair point." Morgan frowns. "I don't like the idea of not having my coat though. I don't have anything else that can keep all my tools on me at once."

"It could be useful to be seen as grimleal." I suggest. "Maybe you can get Bernard to show you to Nah."

"Maybe…" Morgan nods. "And the rest of you are my naive, unknowing companions who I've suckered into helping me."

"Or we're in on it." Kjelle suggests. "Hired help perhaps."

"And I'm here because Validar sent me to check on Bernard's process." Morgan muses. "Of course, there might be an issue if Bernard was acting alone and Validar isn't supposed to know."

"Doesn't mean Validar doesn't know." I remind her. "If Validar is a super strong sorcerer, it should be conceivable that he can scry on people. We don't have to justify how Validar supposedly knows. Let Bernard be paranoid that his actions are being monitored."

"Good idea!" Morgan grins. "Gotta love mind games!"

"Indeed…" I'm going to trust that if Morgan likes the plan it must have some merit. I really have no frame of reference for what makes a good plan.

###

Our attempts to find more information the next day are mostly for naught. We can't ask questions that are too specific without looking sketchy, so we instead prepare for our infiltration. We practice our cover stories, dagger (as those might be the only weapons we can sneak in if for some reasons we aren't allowed to bring weapons, though Morgan should be able to hide a tome in her coat because her coat is huge) and hand-to-hand combat, and our search method (when in doubt, go down, because usually prisons are underground, and try to go wherever you see a lot of guards if you can find a way past them).

We're going to try and stick together because we're going to need the manpower. One person, even if that person is Kjelle in full armor, is going to get overwhelmed by enough guards and potentially an angry grimleal.

Morgan is extremely frustrated at the lack of a floor plan for us to reference, or at least a vague idea of how the manor is laid out. Not that I think we really ever had a chance of getting a floor plan. When you attack an enemy fort they don't just leave a drawing of the layout lying around for anyone to find.

There's one last thing I want to do before we try and get into the manor. I have no idea if it's going to work or not. It probably won't actually.

I remembered that Nah can talk to Naga directly. It's brought up in her support with… male Morgan I think. So I have an idea. Maybe not a good idea, but an idea. So if Nah can talk with Naga, is it possible I can get Naga to pass a message to Nah? I don't expect Naga to talk to me exactly, but I know she does exist and can probably hear prayers, so it stands to reason that Naga might be able to hear me if I call to her. This goes especially if she was at all involved in me coming to this world.

So again, I'm not sure if she'll actually hear me, but it can't hurt to try and pass a message to Nah, right?

That's how I find myself in a church. Everyone else is either back at the inn or shopping, I'm here alone. The church is mostly empty at the moment. I guess there's no service planned to happen soon…? I don't know how churches work and don't really care to. I was atheist back on Earth, and even here I really don't care to suck up to a deity (if any even exist in Awakening, because Naga and Grima aren't deities exactly). I'm at this church purely to try and pass a message, not to hear about the glory of Naga or whatever bullshit the priests try to sell people.

Well, okay, maybe it's not bullshit in this world. That was my cynicism talking. I just don't want to deal with religious stuff.

I don't even know if I'm allowed to just walk into a church like this, but no one stopped me. There's a single priestess (cleric? Priestess? Are those interchangeable in this world?) who glanced my way when I stepped through the door, and she hasn't told me to leave yet so I assume I'm allowed to be here.

I don't know what the protocol is for giving prayer though. Do I sit on a bench? Kneel near the podium/lectern thing at the front? Maybe near one of the statues of Naga at the side? Hell if I know!

I go with sitting on a bench in a corner, if just to be as unobtrusive as possible. I don't have a prayer bead or a bible or anything, so I have hope that closing my eyes and clasping my hands works.

I feel like an idiot even trying this, and I also feel vaguely annoyed that I'm giving prayer to anyone at all (well, more like asking a favor than giving prayer). I'm trying not to sneer at this whole situation because I don't want to be scorning Naga when I'm trying to get her to listen to me.

"How does this work?" I muse while clasping my hands and closing my eyes. "Oh great Naga…? No, that would be disingenuous. Maybe just be honest? Hey Naga! I want you to pass a message on to Nah! It would be nice if she could know we're coming, and that me and Morgan are friends because she has no idea who we are! If you could pass that on I'd appreciate it!"

As you might expect, I get no response. I have no idea if Naga heard me or not. Then again, even if she did hear me I don't think she'd exactly be eager to tell me that she heard. So far all my thoughts concerning Naga have been that she might have dragged me to this world and that I am maybe really mad at her.

I still intend on asking her about my situation if possible. If I have to wait for her to appear to everyone when Grima rises to yell at her, dammit I will. I don't care if she's a deity, or even if she had good intentions! If she brought me here I am going to chew her out!

Sitting in the church when it's all quiet is rather disconcerting. I can hear the priestess sweeping dust at the far end of the room thanks to the rounded roof helping with the acoustics of the building. I can't decide if this place is peaceful or creepy. It's obviously supposed to be the former, but the soft scratching of the broom is mildly distracting, the benches aren't actually all that comfortable, and the abundance of light shining through stained-glass windows is more irritating than it is comforting or awe-inspiring.

Of course, I'm predisposed to dislike churches and Naga, so I won't even pretend my feelings have any sort of objectivity to them.

"How long should I stay here?" I ask myself. "How does this work? Do I just repeat the request over and over? That's how praying works, right? Am I thinking too much about this? Do I only need to ask once?"

I guess I'd only know how much I need to repeat myself if I knew the mechanics of receiving prayer. Does Naga hear them all at once? Can she parse them? Does she hear them all the time or does she have to actively listen for them? Can she hear some prayers more strongly than others? If so, what factors influence that? Faith? Magic power? Personal connection like in Nah or Tiki's case? Cosmic importance, like being relevant to Grima's fall?

Hmm… I want to ask Naga how it works, but that would be a huge waste of her time. If I get a chance to talk to her I'm going to have to (maybe) chew her out and ask how to get home first, and then go with inane questions if she's not in a hurry.

"I say that like someone who's functionally a deity isn't always going to be busy. Poor Naga." I muse. "Stuck at her job with no vacation, and people always needing her help for petty and for serious reasons. It's like being a surgeon with an unending stream of operations to do. If you step away, even for a second, you're costing someone their life, but it's at the expense of having one of your own."

At least, that's what I imagine it must be like. I don't actually know. She does apparently have time to spare to chat with Nah.

"Maybe Naga split her consciousness? Can she focus on multiple things at once? Isn't she just a powerful manakete though? Or is she a dragon that turns into a person, rather than a person that turns into a dragon?" I think. "Is that a distinction that exists? Are there true dragons? How much am I getting wrong?"

My knowledge on dragons is a bit shaky. I can't remember if there actually is a distinction between dragon and manakete besides taking a human form, because I vaguely remember something about dragonstones being sealing devices. What does that mean for Nah actually? Is her "true form" a dragon, or is her human form her true form? Was she born as a dragon? How does getting a dragonstone work?

Questions to ask Nah I suppose. You know, as long as she doesn't assume I'm creepy like Noire does and refuses to talk to me. That's a very distinct possibility in my mind.

"I'm not even talking to Naga, I'm just having idle thoughts." I recognize. With that in mind, I decide to leave the church. I made an attempt to contact Naga and it was probably worthless, but that's over with now and I head back to the inn. We've been made aware that Bernard, if he does show up at all, comes by in the evenings to share food and drinks with guests.

We have to hope we can catch Bernard's attention if he does show up, and we're hoping that Morgan's coat will accomplish that for us. In our travels so far no one has really commented on the coat, but we've been in Ferox for the most part and they're probably not as paranoid about grimleal as Ylissians. There is the possibility that Morgan's coat isn't as obviously grimleal as I think it is, but considering both Kjelle and Noire seem to believe that it can pass as grimleal I must not be too far off.

We strategically stretch out the time we spend having dinner at the inn to maximize the chance of running into Bernard. We slowly sip drinks for nearly an hour before even ordering food, and the first round of food we get are small appetizers to nibble on. By this point we're all pretty hungry, and we realize that not all of us have to wait here just Morgan because of her coat, so Kjelle and Noire have their meals and leave me and Morgan to wait.

I suppose I could leave too, but that would make me a bad boyfriend if I left Morgan to sit in the dining room for hours while I did… probably nothing up in our room. Besides, as I've established before, Morgan is my entertainment in this world. There is literally nothing else that holds my interest at the moment.

This leaves me and Morgan with an unspecified number of hours to burn with no guarantee that Bernard will even show up. With this in mind, I fetch chess and barrels from our room because we might be in for a long night.

I lose, as you probably expect. This is Morgan we're talking about. Me losing is a forgone conclusion. Yes, it's frustrating, but it's something to burn time and Morgan seems to enjoy trying to teach me.

"Nathan."

"Yeah?" I stare at the chessboard, fairly sure I'm losing this round in three-to-four turns.

"So, I know we're in a public space and all." She says. "But can I sit in your lap?"

"Uh…" I glance around. No one is really paying attention to us, and while this place is mildly upper class it still has a tavern vibe. I suppose it wouldn't be too out of place? "Sure."

If I sound nervous, then Morgan doesn't comment. She eagerly gets out of her seat and slips onto my lap where. She promptly slumps against me and lets out a long breath, and when I tentatively wrap my arms around her she nuzzles against my shoulder.

"You're…" I trail off before saying anything. That was a weird response from her.

No, not weird. I'm just being stupid. After three seconds of thought I understand what's going on.

"Stressed?" I ask quietly, and tighten my grip.

"Just a little." She mutters. "We're waiting for someone who is quite probably a crazy kidnapper trying to help resurrect an ancient evil dragon, and I'm responsible for convincing him to give us a tour."

Yeah, okay, fair enough. "You'll be fine. You're the best."

Morgan rolls her eyes. "I know."

"You probably have the most confidence I've ever seen in a human being." I say, and I'm being totally honest. Morgan's self-confidence and self-assuredness is absurd. "You have nothing to worry about. You're smart, you can apparently fake confidence because I didn't notice anything off until you sighed, and not to mention you're cute as fuck. You'll be fine."

"I know." Morgan repeats. "I just wanted to snuggle to make myself feel better." She tilts her head up to look at me. "And Nathan, I'm pretty sure you not noticing isn't a good indicator that I can fake something, because you're sort of oblivious."

"Fair." I mumble. Ouch, but fair. "Sorry."

"I'm not blaming you, just stating a fact." Morgan says. "You're bad at reading emotions, it's not a big deal."

She really shouldn't need to be comforting me when she's the one who's stressed out. I seem to make everything about me by accident. "Yeah, sorry-"

"Nathan, stop apologizing."

"Uh, right." I fall silent for a moment. I'm really messing this up, aren't I? What do I do? "I- fuck, I'm trying to find some way to comfort you but anytime I try something it just ends up with you reassuring me about something."

"Oh." Morgan blinks. "Well… okay, yeah. I guess that did just happen. I'm used to seeing when you're nervous and trying to stop it, so I reassured you on impulse."

"And I appreciate it." I say. "But c'mon, at least let me do something here."

"You're giving hugs, that's something."

"So I'm a squeeze toy?" I question. "Or, well, someone who gives squeezes?"

Morgan quirks an eyebrow. I guess she's never heard that term before. "Not just that, but I only really needed a hug this time around. It's not like I'm outright panicked or anything."

The "not like you usually are" is implied but unsaid. Am I blowing this out of proportion again? I really can't do this relationship thing…

"I'm really not helping, am I?" Morgan says quietly.

"I- no." I say honestly. "Unless it's me who's not helping."

"What?"

"Well, you have to keep reassuring me about things-"

"We just went over that!"

"And you just did it again by explaining you only needed a hug."

"I did?" Morgan frowns. "Oh, I guess I did. But you were asking if I only cared about hugs and not anything else from you."

"That… that's also true." I groan. "Ahhh…"

"Okay, there's something we're not getting across." Morgan frowns. "This sort-of sort-of not argument is confusing me now. So you know what? Just talk, and I'll stay quiet for a bit. I keep cutting you off. I'll talk after."

Okay, okay, gotta try and explain this. How do I explain this? Is it just me being weird? I'm second-guessing myself. What do I do? What do I say? How do I say it? Fuck, fuck, fuck. What do I do?

"Okay, I said I wouldn't talk, but please don't panic." Morgan says quickly. Her hands come up to find my face, warm and comforting. "I- I'm sorry if it's something I said, really! Just talk! Please? I'm not trying to freak you out here!"

I force myself to take a breath. Maybe before there might have been some mutual miscommunication, but now it is certainly me making things worse because I made myself panic. I also better stop thinking about this because I'm going to go down the guilt spiral at this rate and make things even worse. Stop blowing things out of proportion Nathan. "I… feel like I can't do anything for you. At all. Like, in this case, you are the one who's worried, and I try to say something to help, and it ends up with you reassuring me. And also just in general I feel like I'm doing nothing. I'm always the one panicking, and you're always the one reassuring, and I always confide in you because I always have something I need to get off my chest and you're just happy-go-lucky most of the time because you have confidence through the roof for some reason. I always feel like I'm messing up our conversations too. You always need to tell me to stop doing something because I'm fucking something up. Even now I feel like I'm messing something up, like I'm being whiny and petty. I… I don't know how to explain it beyond that. You've been babysitting me the entire time we've known each other, and I'm acutely aware of it."

Morgan waits a few seconds, checking to see if I'm going to continue, then takes her turn. "Okay… uh… right. Not what I expected. I was expecting something along the lines of "you keep telling me what to do and interrupting me!" or "you keep belittling me!" I wasn't expecting you to be thinking you weren't doing anything."

I'm sorely tempted to explain more, but I need to let her talk like she let me talk.

"So, I actually have a question before I go on." Morgan says. "Because I'm starting to suspect something. When you say sorry, is it always because you think you've done something wrong?"

"Not… necessarily." I say. "Sometimes, yes, but I'd also apologize if I bumped into someone, or if they bumped into me. It's just a politeness thing. If something goes wrong for any reason, say sorry, even if it's not your fault."

"Okay." Morgan rubs her forehead. "Because one of the things I've been paying attention to is when you apologize because you do it so often, and I assumed it was because you thought you had done something wrong, so whenever you apologized without a good reason I made sure to stop you because I assumed you were catastrophizing again. Also, remember that I said I'd take care of you? I take that seriously you know! Uh, and maybe I've been overbearing a bit because of it?"

"Not really." I mutter.

"Shush! I'm not done!" Morgan pouts. "So, anyhow, I've really been focusing on you, because as I've mentioned before I'm really not all that worried about my general situation. I'm not a naturally nervous person I guess. So because I can ignore my problems pretty easily, I focus on helping you, because you're cute, and nice, and I like you, and you panic every once in a while and it's fine because I like you and so I feel good helping you. I never really considered that you might have thought you weren't doing anything, because you're sort of the one doing more than I am on an everyday basis you know?"

"What?" I frown. That doesn't sound right. "I call bullshit."

"Then I call counter bullshit." Morgan huffs. "Need I remind you who the one is who carries me around all the time? Or who doesn't mind spending hours explaining things or singing just to entertain me? Or who will accompany me no matter what I'm doing just because they want to be around me? And did you think I didn't notice your obvious adoration? You're not exactly subtle Nathan!"

"I suppose." I guess that's correct? But all of those things are also out of self-interest. It's not nearly as benevolent as Morgan makes it sound. I do that to keep myself entertained as well. At the same time… "This was a stupid arguement wasn't it?"

"Just a little." Morgan nods. "It was only because you felt useless and I was still trying to control our interactions despite more-or less asking for reassurance."

"I guess you're always in control so it's weird when I try to take the lead."

"Basically." Morgan agrees. "I remember back when we met you were in charge and I was following. Strange that the opposite is so normal now, huh?"

"Yeah." I nod. "Though it feels a lot more comfortable when you're in charge. I feel like you actually know what you're doing most of the time."

"I only sorta do." Morgan shrugs. "Honestly, sometimes I don't know if my ideas are good or not, but I know for sure it's better to have a plan and stick to it than to have no plan, regardless of what that plan is. And when it comes to leadership, sheer confidence goes a long way in reassuring other people."

"Ahh…"

"But anyhow, I'll try and remember to actually let you reassure me." Morgan says with a smile, probably realizing how weird that sentence sounds. "Kinda rude of me to ask for reassurance then immediately shut you down."

"That's not exactly what happened." I mutter. "You thought I was guilt spiraling."

"Details." Morgan waves it off.

I poke her in the cheek. "Hey, don't just shrug off my mistakes. I did make some."

"Okay, fine, can we stop this argument now?" Morgan says.

"Oh, uh, sure." I say. Did that even count as an argument? It wasn't really an argument was it? More like a miscommunication. We never got angry at each other so I don't think it counts as an argument. Whatever. That's not something that's important at the moment.

"Also, maybe we should get food, because I'm really starting to get hungry now." Morgan says. She slides out of my lap and goes back to her chair, though she drags it around the table to be closer to me. "I'm not sure Bernard is going to show up."

"Gotcha."

I don't know if we're lucky or unlucky. About half an hour later when we're just finishing our food, when we notice a man wearing a high-collared dark crimson vest over a deep purple shirt. It looks remarkably like a suit you'd see back on Earth, though with different colours. His pants aren't dress pants though. They're dark grey with crimson lines down the legs and quite baggy. They're actually like Morgan's pants, just a different colour. The guy looks somewhat old with short, well-kept silver-white hair and a wrinkled but kindly face. He's medium height, very thin, and doesn't doesn't seem to be particularly muscular or obviously weak one way or another. He's actually kind of generic besides his clothes.

I say we may be lucky or unlucky to notice him because he's very obviously Bernard. He's going around talking to guests, so either he's randomly chatty, he's a host, or he owns the place.

It's obviously the last one.

"You see him too?" Morgan murmurs to me. She appears to be focusing on her food, but is actually tracking the man from the corner of her eye as he moves around the room. "Ready?"

"I-I guess." I say. "Remember, we don't know if he's grimleal for sure-"

"I know Nathan. I'll do some probing." Morgan reassures. "Leave it to me. All you have to do is look cute."

Very funny Morgan. I don't comment though. Bernard is coming to our table, there's no more time for banter. It's showtime… for Morgan.

"Greetings travellers." The man says when he stops next to our table. "Have you been enjoying the town? Have your other companions already retired? I was hoping to be able to speak with them as well."

I'm sorry, what? He knows that we have other companions? He did research on us apparently, or got info from the guest list. Very interesting, and slightly worrying.

"The town has been… tolerable." Morgan says. She's relaxed back into her seat with her head tilted up so she's basically looking down her nose at him. Her expression is convincingly bored and indifferent. "We are here on business you see."

"Oh?" The man quirks an eyebrow. "But I've been rude, I suppose I should introduce myself first." He extends a hand to Morgan. "I am Bernard Von Drachen. I run Ylisse's only dark magic academy, and am a prominent supplier of rare ritual components for powerful mages. Diamond dust, mana gems, that sort of thing."

"I'm Morgan." Morgan says flatly. "He's Nathan. We're here to retrieve something valuable for our master, and I do believe you are in possession of that thing."

"Oh?" Bernard straightens himself a bit. "Really now? I was not expecting anyone of your description, though I am quite busy so it is possible I forgot. Remind me what it is you are trying to obtain?"

Morgan goes right for the throat, metaphorically. "We're here for the manakete."

Morgan, I thought you said you were going to do some probing. What happened to that? Unless this is supposed to be probing somehow.

"A manakete?" The man says. His response is suitably surprised, though his eyes now carefully scan Morgan and noticeably settle on the eye patterns on her sleeves for a few moments. "Are you quite sure you have the right person? If something has happened to the Voice-"

"He won't appreciate you playing dumb, Bernard." Morgan cuts him off, speaking in a calm, even tone. "He is not a patient man."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Bernard says a bit more harshly. "Who is "he"?"

"Come now." I say. I rest one arm on the table and use my knuckles to prop my head up. "Surely you did not think he would not take interest in you having obtained a member of the divine dragon tribe. It is quite the find after all."

Bernard is trying to keep up his calm appearance, but I know he's not quite calm. His body language gives him away. Whereas before his arms were calmly resting on the table when he spoke, now one is tensely pulled against his body with fingers pulled into something like a fist, and the other is gripping the first hand's wrist. That's self-hugging right there, albeit subtly, and it's a sign of feeling nervous and needing to comfort yourself. I imagine he feels like he's being put on the spot, which he is, but if we were throwing baseless accusations you'd expect him to be indignant considering his position of power, not defensive. "As I said already, I know nothing about the discovery of a divine dragon."

Morgan speaks again. "Do you not? Was it one of your underlings? My, that's such a shame. He seemed quite delighted that you had managed to find a divine dragon. I suppose his praise will have to go to one of them then."

That's a devious move Morgan. She's using the carrot and the stick approach. A threat of not wanting to disappoint Validar, and the potential promise of earning good standing if Bernard cooperates. Very clever. I suppose I somewhat helped facilitate that too by mentioning that it was an achievement to find a manakete. Yay, I helped!

That sounds so childish of me…

"Now just a second." Bernard says. He straightens his vest and holds his head high. I suppose he's also given up on pretending he doesn't know about Nah. "I admittedly never saw the girl transform, but now that I give it some thought I did find some girl with some unusual qualities. Pointed ears, a magical stone, that sort of thing. I had been meaning to look into her odd qualities at a later date, but I suppose she fits the description of a manakete."

That's the most flimsy excuse I've ever heard, but I guess it doesn't have to be good. We're at the point where we both know the other party is in on the whole grimleal thing, so elegant social maneuvering is less necessary.

"The poor dear must have gotten terribly lost." Morgan says, which indirectly reminds us that we're in a public place and can't talk about sensitive grimleal matters in plain terms. Even Bernard seems to have forgotten, because he quickly glances at the other tables around us. Thankfully no one is really paying attention to us. "He would be so happy to help her find her way back home and have a chance to talk with her. He's quite interested in manaketes, as you know." Morgan pauses, then says. "You did know, correct?"

"I was aware." Bernard says indignantly.

"That begs the question why you did not send her to him earlier then." Morgan says with a faint sneer on her face. "But I suppose the mistake can be forgiven. We shall come to retrieve her tomorrow. Please have her ready by lunch."

"Now hold on, I still have some tests I want to conduct." Bernard says in a lower tone so others can't hear. "I have been meaning to extract some blood from her, if you can just give me a few days-"

"Validar is not patient." Morgan snaps, and finally name drops the person we've been vaguely referring to this entire time. "If you want some blood samples, you can request them from him after the manakete has been delivered. He will look more favourably upon your request if there are no delays."

"I- fine." Bernard snarls. He's not even being subtle anymore. "I will have her prepared. Arrive at noon, sharp, no later. I am a busy man."

"Do not think-" I add "-you can get away with trying to rush a blood extraction tonight, von Drachen. We need the manakete in good health. The next few weeks will not be kind to her."

Bernard's fists curl, and I'm glad I shoved that in there. It only occurred to me at the last moment that the time pressure might make him feel inclined to get what he wants now, before we take her away. It's good that I shut that down even if it doesn't endear us to him.

Bernard leaves us soon after that. He strides right out of the room without talking to anyone else.

"I hope Nah is going to be okay." I mumble once I feel safe again. "He still might try something."

"We can't do anything about it." Morgan says. "Besides, this is better overall. If we can avoid a fight, that's good." Even though she says this, she's still frowning.

"It doesn't sit right with you either, does it?"

"Yeah, it really doesn't." She admits. "I wish we could rush in there and help her, but that would be suicide."

"I'm worried we've just given him time to prepare. We literally told him when we were coming." I mutter. "This could still go bad."

"It could." Morgan agrees. "But be confident. He'll probably try and accuse us of something tomorrow, or make a power play to try and keep Nah. We need to stay calm, remind him that we come from Validar and Validar is scary, and keep acting like we know he won't dare hurt us because of Validar. Confidence is everything here."

"Got it." I take a deep breath in, and let it out. "Sorry for butting in by the way, I figured you were being a bit too confrontational and thought a lighter approach in addition to yours might help."

"And it was probably a good idea." Morgan muses. "I was thinking that Grimleal were all hardcore, right? So any sort of kindness or consideration would be out of place and I needed to be tough and unforgiving."

"You might be right." I shrug. "I really don't know their inner workings. It was a gamble for me to do that in retrospect."

"Ah, not really." Morgan waves it off. "I had a plan in case you said something wrong."

"You did?"

"Well sure. I look grimleal and you don't, right? If you said something too off, I could claim you were a favored servant or something. I could pretend to be some rich, bratty girl who dragged her unqualified servant around."

"Wouldn't that seem unrealistic?"

"Probably not. As long as I seemed dangerous it wouldn't matter what you said all that much." Morgan explains. "Because if I make myself look important enough or strong enough, it doesn't matter how eccentric I look because I have some reason to be able to get away with it. So it was fine. I planned for that."

"Sometimes you're scarily good, you know that?"

"I know." Morgan says. "Just a side-effect of how awesome I am."

###

I dearly, desperately want this to go well. I'm antsy all day as we prepare to go pick up Nah. I hope nothing happened to her last night, I hope Bernard won't be problematic, I hope we don't have to make use of our knowledge of the forest out back and knocking out a guard so we can get a key to deal with the force rebounder. That's the backup plan. The backup plan to the backup plan is to climb a tree and hop the fence that way, because there has to be a tree near the fence we can climb over in the forest section.

Morgan apparently has some additional plans if those don't work, like using her wind magic and my axe to fell a tree onto the fence and pray it's enough to surpass the rebounder to create a path for us.

Hopefully it won't come to that, of course. If all goes well our preparation will be useless and we'll walk out of this town with Nah within the hour.

I mean, let's be honest, the chance of that actually happening is super low. Someone is going to get stabbed, and I hope it's not me.

Our group marches straight up to the front gate of Bernard's estate. Bernard is there, and it looks like he has several guards with him as well as what… I'm fairly sure… oh shit…

"Risen." Kjelle mutters. Her eyes flick from the guards to Bernard to the Risen, assessing all their weapons and armor. "Silver weapons. This is not a fight we'll win easily."

At least she thinks we'll win. I'm not so confident. I don't see Nah, and that's a bad sign.

"Bernard." Morgan calls when we arrive at the gate. The gate is open, leaving less than a dozen meters between us and Bernard's twenty guards and Risen. "Do you have the manakete ready as I asked?"

"I do." Bernard says. He's much calmer than yesterday, probably because he's surrounded by guards. He even looks haughty.

"Then bring her out." Morgan demands. "As you said, you are busy, and I would rather return to Validar sooner than later."

"Would you now?" Bernard crosses his arms. "Because something interesting happened last night."

"Do tell." Morgan says. She tilts up her head to stare down her nose at him. "But make it quick."

"I spoke with Validar to verify your mission." Bernard says. "And he gave you no such order. You simply want my manakete."

Okay, interesting. First of all, he's totally lying to us. He said "he gave you no such order" implying that Validar actually knows who we are at all and that we're actually grimleal. Validar doesn't know us, and we're not grimleal at all. So Bernard here is lying to our face, probably because he thinks we are grimleal like him, but that we're acting out of self-interest.

This also means, if Morgan noticed (which, because I'm an idiot and if I noticed it she absolutely has) she can bullshit her way through this because Bernard doesn't actually know we're not grimleal, he's trying to test us.

"Oh really now?" Morgan says. She smiles thinly and, to everyone's surprise, walks forward into the group of guards and risen. The guards hastily point their weapons at her, and Morgan brushes them aside with her hand without a single trace of fear. She marches right up to a startled Bernard Von Drachen, grabs him by the collar, and pulls his face down to her level. Surrounded by Risen and guards who could kill her at any moment, Morgan doesn't spare them a glance while saying: "Cut the bullshit Drachen. Give us the manakete. Validar is not known for his patience, and I've lost mine. I better see that manakete up here in five minutes, dragonstone and all, or you'll lose your petty life here and your freedom to experiment. A single specimen is not an unmanageable request." She released the shocked man, and shoves him back. "Five minutes starts now."

"I-" Bernard sputters. "You cannot-!"

"I'm waiting." Morgan interrupts with an icy tone. She doesn't even bother to move away from the guards and the risen after her little demonstration. She waits right there in the middle of them, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently.

So, after what can only be called a power move, Bernard goes scrambling back into his manor. He shouts some bluster back at us, trying to salvage his dignity, but he's lost. He has well and truly lost.

It actually takes about seven minutes for Bernard to fetch Nah, and he does fetch Nah. When he comes walking through the front door again, he's pushing a manacled Nah in front of him.

Nah, surprisingly, doesn't look any worse for wear. She's scoffing and holding her head high despite her situation. If I had to take a bet on what imprisoned royalty would look like, Nah is it. Haughty, indignant, not at all afraid, and with a nice-looking dress.

I still say she looks like a doll though, mostly due to that dress. She looked like a doll in the game art, and she does in reality.

Bernard brings Nah to Morgan, and Morgan grabs the girl by the shoulder with one hand and extends the other. "Dragonstone."

With a snarl, Bernard roughly pulls the stone from his pocket and all but slams it into Morgan's hand. Morgan smiles with unrestrained smugness.

"Thank you for your cooperation." She says mockingly, then turns and leads Nah back to our group.

Nah apparently knows better than to show excitement at the moment, because she keeps her expression as an indignant sneer as she approaches. Kjelle also keeps her expression schooled, though Noire is noticeably twitchy now that Nah is in reach.

Morgan leads us away from the manor, keeping Nah out in front. Five steps, ten steps, twenty steps. I force myself not to look back at the gateway. We're actually going to get away with this somehow. I can't believe we're actually getting away with this. What the fuck. Our deception actually worked? We didn't have to kill a guard and take his stuff? We didn't have to escape into the forest? We don't have to deal with the force rebounder? What miracle is this?

I'd say praise Naga, except this was all Morgan. Good job Morgan!

As soon as we're out of eyesight of the manor, Noire hastily pulls out a lockpick from her pocket (which I didn't know she had, though since her father is Gaius maybe that's not a surprise) and gets the manacles off Nah. Nah lets out a long, shaky breath, and properly meets our eyes for the first time.

"Nah." Kjelle says simply.

"Kjelle." Nah nods tiredly. "Noire."

"Nah." Noire sniffles. "You're okay?"

"I'm fine." Nah reassures. "That jerk wasn't very happy last night, but he didn't do anything to me. He kept telling me I was in so much trouble and that I should be begging to stay with him rather than go with you."

"I mean, we are kinda scary." Morgan brags. She passes the dragonstone to Nah. "Bernard was quaking in his boots! I'm Morgan by the way."

"Nice to meet you." Nah says politely. She then turns to me. "You're Nathan, right?"

"I- uh- yeah." How does she know that? "Hi."

Then Nah promptly drops a bomb on me. "Naga wants to talk with you."

"What?" Kjelle asks sharply. "I'm sorry, Naga wants to talk to him?"

"Yes." Nah says simply. "He's the outworlder, right?"

"So that's the term?" I mutter. "Uh, yeah, that's me."

"Naga said she needed to clear some things up with you." Nah said. "She would have done a dream talk already, but apparently you have no magic signature so she can't connect to you at all."

"Ah." So apparently my lack of magic and resistance is going to be a recurring problem. Not only do I have zero resistance, but I can't be located by magic because I have no "signature". "I hope that can be changed. I'd much rather be able to be found if I'm in trouble…"

Morgan takes out her notebook and scribbles something down.

"Anyhow." Nah says. She hands her dragonstone to me, and I handle it with great care. "Hold this while you sleep. It will serve as a conduit for Naga."

"Okay." I squeak. "And you're okay with me holding on this for the day?"

"Why shouldn't I be?" Nah questions. "You just saved me, right? It's not like you aren't trustworthy."

Fair point. "How did you know about me anyways? How does Naga know about me?"

"Well I know about you two-" Nah points to me and Morgan "-from Naga, and I can't speak for her. All I know is that she said you were an outworlder and that you know a lot about this world and about the Shepherds."

"Very true." I nod.

"And me?" Morgan asks eagerly. "Naga mentioned me?"

"Yeah. She didn't have much to say about you though except that you were with him." Nah shrugs. "Naga was more concerned with Nathan for some reason."

"She was probably intimidated by my awesomeness." Morgan decides.

"You are pretty awesome." I agree. "You just bullied a grimleal!"

"Fuck yes I did!" Morgan says proudly. "More compliments!"

"You're so smart, and cute, and powerful." I list, and ruffle her hair. "And very scary."

"Woo!" Morgan sticks her fists up in the air. "Scary Morgan!"

Nah glances towards the other girls and points to me and Morgan. Kjelle sighs. "Yes, that's normal."

"You get used to it…" Noire adds with an air of resignation.

"Welcome to the team!" Morgan says cheerfully, and throws an arm around Nah's shoulders. "You're absolutely going to regret it!"

"Great." Nah says flatly. "By the way, I'm really tired, so can we get back to your inn so I can sleep?"

"We actually have to leave town immediately." Morgan says apologetically. "Bernard owns the inn, and he's not going to be happy with us if he learns we lied to him. We need distance."

"I-If you want to rest…" I say hesitantly. Is this going to sound too forward? Everyone but Morgan thinks I'm weird already, what's one more distrustful girl to the list? "I don't mind giving you a ride. Morgan piggybacks all the time, so I'm used to it if you want to sleep as we move."

Nah stares at me for a solid two seconds, and I fidget uncomfortably. I was too forward. It was a bad idea to offer. Of course it was. I can never do anything right when it comes to talking to people. "Honestly… yeah, thanks. I'm not going to be able to march today."

"Oh." Uh. Okay. She's fine with it. That's unexpected. That's good. I kneel down a bit so she can climb on my back. "Here you go."

Nah is noticeably lighter than Morgan, though I don't know how much of that is because Morgan carries four heavy books in her coat and who-knows-how-much miscellaneous junk. I carefully adjust her so I don't feel like she's going to fall off.

"Good?"

"Fine." Nah says. She already sounds exhausted, and lets out a deep, long breath near my ear. "Don't talk to me for the next hour or two please…"

"Okay." I whisper. "Sleep well."

Nah mumbles something incomprehensible in response.

"She's cute." Morgan says after a few seconds, when Nah has closed her eyes. "I think she's going to be a lot of fun."

"She can still hear you." I scold. "Shush Morgan."

"Fine…"

###

There's a subdued sense of urgency in our march after we retrieve our things from the inn. We don't even stop to buy Nah some new things and get the hell out of town.

Incidentally, Nah has her ring. Or, well, her mother's ring. It only occurred to me as we were leaving that we never checked if Bernard took it from her, but she mumbled back that yes, she still has it. I guess Bernard wasn't interested in it.

Also, I'm low-key panicking even more than I was earlier, because now I am scheduled for a meeting with Naga tonight. Naga. You know, the dragon sorta-goddess. On one hand, I just got my opportunity to yell at Naga. On the other hand, I'm not sure if I'm going to have the confidence to yell at Naga or if I even have a good reason to. I haven't confirmed if she's responsible for my situation or not.

Then again, she apparently knows about me, so that might be a sign she was somehow involved with this whole ordeal.

"Focus on something else. Literally anything else." I tell myself. All of us are trying not to talk at the moment so Nah can sleep, so distraction is actually a tall order here. My talk with Naga at night could very well decide my future. It could decide if I should even be spending effort to get home, or if it's even possible, or if there's some other reason I can't go home.

I might be stuck here. I might be stuck here. That's a very real possibility. It was before, but I could push it to the back of my mind because it wasn't an immediate issue. I barely had a plan for my life when I lived on Earth, and was already kind of useless there. What am I going to do in this world? I have some vague ideas of selling board games, but I've never run a business, I don't know if I have enough skill to be able to make board games to even a vaguely acceptable level of quality. I also won't have my family as a support network. In this world I literally just have Morgan, and that's assuming she won't get tired of me at some point.

"Don't think so negatively." I scold myself. "Morgan has made it clear she's fine with you, don't catastrophize."

With Morgan's help I imagine I can get by, but I'm not exactly looking forward to it. I just hope I don't end up being a burden to whatever Morgan's life plans are, because the only thing I'd hate more than the difficulty of creating a new life is being a burden on someone else's. I'm also acting under the assumption that my relationship with Morgan is going to progress to the extent that we'll be living together, which is not at all a certainty.

I hope it does though, if I'm stuck here. I like Morgan. I've never had someone who I'm so eager to spend time with, but also makes me so incredibly nervous whenever she makes a lewd joke or teases me. Half my life in this world has been Morgan. Talking with Morgan, confiding in her, playing with her. My life revolves around her right now, and that's terrifying to consider.

"Please wake up soon Nah. I don't want to be stuck in my own thoughts for any longer."

###

I don't know if night time comes too quickly or not quickly enough. There's some talking around the campfire at night with Nah being awake. Kjelle and Noire and Morgan have plenty of questions to ask, but I'm too distracted to pay much attention. I do end up hearing that Nah was locked up in that manor for about three months, and that she'd been wandering the island for almost five months before that and surviving by charity and theft (usually by snagging livestock in her dragon form).

The one other question that grabs my attention is from Morgan, and isn't about Nah but about what she knows. "Hey Nah?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know Olivia?"

"Inigo's mom? Not that well. We only talked once or twice."

"Who's she married too?" Morgan asks intensely. "Inigo's father?"

Nah thinks for a moment. "I think it was someone called Robin? A tactician if I remember correctly."

"Right." Morgan's grin could not be wider if she tried. She sits back and leans against me with unbridled happiness. "Right."

"What?" Nah asks, now wary. "What's so funny?"

"Not funny." Morgan says. "I finally know who my mother is. I knew my father was Robin, but not who my mother was because of my amnesia."

"Oh." Nah blinks. "I never heard of Inigo having a sister…"

"Weird, but not my problem." Morgan hums. "I know who my mother is~! I have a brother~!" She turns to me. "Nathan! Your predictions were right! Tell me about Mom and Inigo! I already know but I want to hear it again!"

You're very excited, aren't you Morgan? I suppose she has good reason to be excited though. I'd be excited too to find out who my mother was if I had no idea. "Well, your mother is a skilled dancer…"

I do my very best to describe Olivia and Inigo, and despite me only offering bare-bones descriptions Morgan eagerly listens, knowing that she's hearing about the people that are definitively her family.

I finish my explanation by saying: "Inigo might know who you are. I'm not sure why no one else would know who you are if he supposedly does, so that might be a difference between this world and the game that he doesn't know, but there is a chance he will."

"I hope he does. I want to know what I was like." Morgan says. "Ooh, I can't wait to mess with him!"

"Wait." Nah says, looking confused. "What game are you talking about?"

I quickly catch her up on my situation. Considering she already knew I was an outworlder beforehand, she's not nearly as weirded-out by what I tell her. "Oh, that's cool."

"Isn't it?" Morgan says eagerly. "You have to hear some of the songs from his world! They're ridiculous!"

"I'll keep that in mind." Nah says slowly. "For later."

We're about to go to sleep, and I am hella worried. I'm going to talk to Naga. Naga. This is going to go terrible. I'm terrible at talking to people to begin with, and now I have to talk to Naga? This is bad. This is very bad.

Thankfully Morgan is observant, and more than willing to provide comfort. She lies down before I do, says "head here" and pats her chest (or where it would be on her bedroll). I tentatively lay my head down on that spot and Morgan wraps her arms around it.

"It'll be fine." Morgan murmurs while running her fingers through my hair. "If you can go home, great, if you can't, you've got me."

"Right." I say, my voice hoarse. "Right."

And that's how I fall asleep, desperately hoping that this nighttime talk will go well.

###

Apparently Naga's dreamscape talk looks like the living room of my house. I'm sitting in one of the big chairs and, looking extremely out of place in such a modern setting, Naga sits across from me on the couch.

Naga is tall. Really tall. I think she's almost as tall as Mariana, and that was seven feet let me remind you! Her outfit is exactly the same as in the game as well. I was honestly expecting something less skimpy, but hey, if she likes it then I'm not going to tell her no.

"Eric." She says as a greeting. "Or, I suppose you are going as Nathan now, aren't you?"

I am." I say. I feel oddly calm at the moment. I was worried not that long ago. How strange. "I thought you couldn't locate me, how do you know that?"

"Through Morgan." Naga says. "She does not pray often, and when she does it is not intended that I hear, but so long as I am addressed I can hear, and I have been listening for your companions specifically."

So Morgan occasionally mentions me in prayers. Probably "Naga help Nathan not be an idiot" or something. I guess sarcastic comments still count as prayers for the purposes of Naga hearing. Interesting. "How does prayer work anyways? Do you hear every little comment, is it all at once?"

"Perhaps we should focus on more important matters?" Naga suggests gently. "I have limited power, and with Grima in our future I cannot afford to contact you again before his fall."

That implies she might talk to me afterwards. Though considering how unnecessary my questions just were I highly doubt that. "Right, uh, but first. Can I get home? Before Grima, after Grima, whatever. Can I get home?" That question isn't important to killing Grima, but there's no way I'm going to let this slide. "And are you responsible?"

"I suppose this question was inevitable." She murmurs. "Yes, I am responsible, yes, you can get home, but I would not recommend it seeing as you are dead in your world and explaining your new life and second body would be quite a hassle."

"I- what?"

"You died." Naga says softly. "By what your world would call a heart attack."

"A heart attack?" I whisper in disbelief. "I… but…"

"I know not the exact circumstances." Naga murmurs. "However, I was searching for recently deceased souls who could be of use to my world, knowing that my world took the form of games and books in worlds beyond the outrealms. You were the first to fit my criteria, and I did not have the power to waste searching for more."

"I assume you mean that I know enough about the game to predict future events." I say.

"Precisely."

So I died, Naga found my soul and knew I was knowledgeable about Awakening, and with her not being willing to waste power searching for others she took me to help this world.

Not only did I die for basically no reason, but the only reason I'm here is because Naga basically had no other choice. She basically stuck her magic hand into a bin and grabbed the first vaguely useful thing she could find, regardless of quality, and that thing is me.

"Why is my body different?" I ask next. I can process what that means for me later. Naga is using limited time here. I need to get the important questions out of the way.

"You needed something useful to help you survive, and you were unwilling to accept a magic item." Naga says. "I do believe you were hysterical at the time, but I complied with your wish and was forced to come up with a different solution to your frailty."

Great. So my body is my fault. Wonderful.

"It can be fixed. Speak with Miriel." Naga reassures. "With the childrens' protection, you need not your new body."

That's good. Okay, that's one positive thing. "Right, okay. Sorry. I had to get those out of the way. What did you want to talk about?"

"That was what I wanted to talk about." Naga says. "I owe you answers for seemingly ripping you from your world. In recreating your brain and placing your soul back in it, your memory was returned to what it was before we spoke the first time."

So we've talked before, and I was hysterical. Probably because I died. "You could have talked to me through Nah instead. You didn't have to waste your power on this."

"It is my choice for what I will use my power, and this was a private matter." Naga murmurs. "I have enough power for what I must do later, do not be concerned."

"Okay." I mumble. It's weird to consider that Naga is wasting some of her valuable power just to bring me peace of mind. It's not that I don't appreciate it, but it really does seem like a pointless use of her power. A somewhat-goddess used her mighty divine power to… help me with my insecurities.

Well, okay, she explained why the heck I was here and gave extremely vital information for the course of my life, so perhaps it's a bit less useless than I'm making it out to be, but she still used her limited power when there's an evil artificial dragon in our future just to talk to me. I'm not sure if I feel honored or if I feel horrible for being such an anxiety-ridden mess that Naga herself has to sort me out.

"You would do well to accept that the decisions of others do not always center on your actions." Naga murmurs, and rises from her seat. "This conversation would have happened regardless of your actions. It was my feeling of duty that led to this, not anything to do with you."

Right. So I'm a moron again. Great.

"I must be going." She murmurs. "I will leave you with this dream, however, if you wish to wander your hometown. When you wish to wake, enter the cabinet under your stairs. Either that, or wait until you wait up naturally."

With that, Naga rises from her seat and strides out of the room and out the door. I can't see her walking down the driveway after that so she must have vanished, and I'm left with a dream world of my home town.

I could probably spend time thinking about the conversation we just had, but I'm not going to waste this opportunity. I thought I'd never be able to see home again.

I go to my room first. It's exactly like I remember. Two bookshelves, one large and filled with novels and some comic book… what are they called? Omnibusses? I think it's omnibusses. The shorter bookshelf has all my university textbooks and personal artbooks (the drawings are terrible, I never put in enough effort). My bed looks the same as always, and when I lie down on it it feels just the same.

I investigate my computer next, and am surprised to find it actually works. I know when it comes to dreams you usually can't read words correctly due to some right brain left brain thing, but I can read everything fine here. This must be a special dream because of the Naga magic. I put on my headphones, open up youtube, and go to my favourite song list. I think there's a few videos missing, so this world must be based strictly on my memory. It can only show me what I remember.

Still, I run through all the songs I can recall. I probably spend hours on my computer, revelling in hearing the songs in their proper quality. Whenever I can't remember how a specific song goes, the song buffers and refuses to load.

I'm glad I got this opportunity to hear these songs again. Who knows how long I had before I truly started to forget them? I'll happily delay that time for as long as I can.

I don't stay in my room forever though. I'm tempted to turn on my Switch or my DS, but I have more important things to look at before I turn to those. I've spent two and a half hours on my computer if the time shown in the corner is at all accurate. I take my phone with me to have a mobile time source.

I take quick glances inside the rooms of my siblings. My siblings who I won't see again. Their rooms have their lights on, but with no occupants. One room has an active laptop with a half-written play on the screen. The other room has a DS, abandoned in the middle of a Pokemon battle. The third is messy, like it always was. Chip bags, soda cans, plates with pizza crusts. My youngest sibling was never particularly clean.

"Even in my dream you can't clean up your shit Dan." I murmur, and kick aside a Tostitos bag.

Last is my parents' room. Unlike all of the kids', it's not dusty and the sheets are properly tucked in. That's not what I'm here to see though. I reach under the bed and pull out a large plastic bin, which I then open.

Mom and Dad kept all our important photos in this bin. I was never very sentimental before, but as you can expect that's changed now. A disturbing number of the photo albums are blank, but I manage to find one single album that has viewable photos. I can see my parents' faces for the first time in half a year, and my siblings, and my siblings when they were younger. My parents wedding photo is also there at the very end.

I take the photo album back to my room, and after a moment's thought I also fetch my brothers' DS, Computer, and even a stupid plate and array them on the floor.

I know I won't be going into that cabinet. I'll be waiting to wake up and taking the full time I have.

The house looks the same, but no part of it holds as much emotional weight as the bedrooms so I don't spend much time there. Assuming this dream took hold as soon as it could, I should still have at least four hours left, if not more.

I do have a few places I want to visit that aren't in the house. Thankfully they don't take too long to walk to. I throw on my hoodie- I'm in my old body apparently, I didn't even notice. I miss this. Weak, frail, probably not the healthiest, but it's me- and begin my walk.

Asphalt roads seem so unnatural now after weeks of dirt or cobble. Sidewalks are the same case. Most places we've gone don't have sidewalks. I walk ten minutes down the main street to a mall, and then to the basement to the bowling alley I always went to. They served the best chicken strips and fries, hands down. I don't stay there for long though. There's no food to eat after all, I just wanted to see this place again.

The same goes for my second destination. I walk five more minutes down the road to my high school. Just like everywhere else, the doors are unlocked and I can walk right in. I never saw half of the rooms, so they all end up being carbon copies of the few I do remember.

Believe it or not, those two buildings are the only other places I care to visit. I didn't get out much, and didn't care for most of the places I went.

With all of that done, I wander back home. I then go around grabbing anything I can think to care about. I grab old toys, game consoles, and some of my parents' favourite books and hoard them all in my room. By the time I have everything I want, the floor is almost totally unnavigable, with only a thin path to my desk and computer.

I'm at three hours and thirty minutes spent. That's just under half the time I expect to have, and two and a half hours away from the absolute minimum. I proceed to spend the entire rest of my available time in my room, which I suppose is very fitting. Once a shut-in always a shut-in.

There's a temptation to play Awakening with my free time, but I push that aside. This might be- no, it will be my last to play any of these games in any fashion. I can't waste it. I play a bit of Pokemon, a bit of Darkest Dungeon, a bit of Bravely Second even, and some Three Houses.

Four hours total have passed since this dream started, then five, then six, then seven, then eight. At eight and a half hours, while I'm in the middle of playing Three Houses, I start to feel tired.

Feeling tired must mean I'm going to wake up soon. My time is up. I've been feeling a bit numb for this entire dream. Sometimes I was elated, like when I could hear the songs I've been singing properly for the first time in months, but for the most part I've been in a daze. Now, with the imminent, unavoidable fact that this dream world is going to disappear along with my last chance to experience my old world in any way, I can feel the tears start to well up again.

Despite my blurred vision, I toss my switch aside and grab the picture album. I can fight waking up for just a bit, and I make use of it to flip through all those pictures again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again-

Eventually my vision is swimming, not from tears but from exhaustion. I can't fight waking up any longer. I want to stubbornly cling to this world, just to be able to see it and touch it and listen to it for just a bit longer. Just one more song, just one more game, just another hour, just one more flip through the album. Just let me sleep for another hour, or day, or month, or year.

I curl up in my bed, clutching the album.

"I'm losing it all again." I think as my eyes are forced to droop as I continue to stare at the last photo in the album, and a black curtain drops over my vision. "And it's so much worse because I know it's coming."

My eyes close, and the album slips from my hands. I don't hear it hit the floor, or feel my body fall back on my bed.

Chapter Text

I've been trying to shake Nathan awake for nearly ten minutes before he finally opens his eyes. I can instantly tell what the result of his chat with Naga must have been. Even before he's fully awake his body language tells it all. He curls into a ball with fists clenched tightly and held against his chest.

He can't get home, and I'm not foolish enough to think anything I can say right now is going to make much of a difference. This is not something he'll get over in a day. Still, I play my part as a good girlfriend and embrace him as best I can with his curled position.

I'm not sure if Nathan realized it, but I had quite a bit at stake on the result of that talk as well. Not as much as Nathan of course. His entire future hung in the balance of whatever Naga told him, but for me this talk was going to decide if I had a potential long-term romantic partner or not, or if that board game business suggestion Nathan made was something to seriously consider (as I don't think I'd bother if he wasn't going to be around around, as much as I might like board games). Those are the only two things that come to mind, but they're significant.

There's no way I'm going to be able to admit, for a very long time, that I was hoping this would be the result. I was hoping Nathan wouldn't be able to find his way home. That's a horrible thing to want, I know. It's selfish. I'm not saying that I wouldn't have helped Nathan get home if he would, I absolutely would have, but I wanted him to stay. He's my closest companion, and a romantic one at that. Can you blame me for wanting him to stay in my life?

Sure, he's easily panicked, generally nervous, socially awkward, not a fighter, and has few practical skills, but that skill problem can be fixed, he's intelligent in a general sense, he's always been willing to entertain me with a song or an explanation of some weird thing from his world, he's always willing to play games with me even if he loses literally all the time and happily indulges my quirks unless there's a good reason not to, his social awkwardness can actually be kind of adorable when it's not too extreme, and add on to that the fact that he so obviously adores me is a plus in my book (it's always nice to know you're loved). Also, he's cute. That might change if we can get his old body back somehow, but that's fine. Cuteness is a bonus, not a necessity.

I've also been consciously holding back on some shows of affection or flirtation. I didn't want to risk myself getting more attached to Nathan if he was going to be leaving. That limit is off now, but I'll have to hold back a bit longer because this is not an appropriate time for this stuff.

Just something else to work into my plans for the future I suppose.

"Come on Nathan, breakfast is going to get cold." I say, pulling him by the arm. He slowly and silently follows with his eyes already starting to redden. Before he grabs his food though, he hands Nah's dragonstone back to her. I'm surprised he remembered.

Still, I know today is going to be a very long day. The only question is how long that's going to be.

I can say for certain travelling is a lot less fun without Nathan for entertainment. No jokes, no roleplay, no songs. He walks silently at the back of the group with his eyes on the road at all times, and more than once I have to nudge him to keep up the pace.

I could mention all the little interactions I have with Nathan through the day, but none of them are particularly notable. Just know that I kept an eye on him.

In other news, I got to see a dragon! Nah showed us a transformation because she hadn't transformed in months and it was driving her nuts. She's… smaller than I expected. Don't get me wrong, she's about the size of a wyvern, but I always imagined dragons as bulky, church-sized, fire-breathing behemoths and not skinny sparkly seaweed monsters.

Still, a dragon is a dragon. A seaweed dragon is still cool.

"Can I ride you sometime?" I ask eagerly. "I want to ride a dragon! Dragon rider Morgan!"

"No." Nah replies curtly. Her voice is all distorted and weird. I didn't know she could talk in dragon form! "Kjelle, please don't tell me she's just like Owain."

Kjelle's response is quick and flat. "She is."

"I guess it was too much to ask to be rid of him entirely." Nah grumbles.

Sourpuss. "Owain sounds like a lot of fun! You're just boring!" I taunt.

"I think the term you're looking for is 'mature'." Nah scoffs. She turns her back to me and flares her wings. "I'm going to fly a bit. Don't bother me."

The seaweed dragon takes to the air. "I wonder how those thin wings keep her up in the air." I say aloud. "Maybe magic is involved."

"According to all known laws of aviation…" Nathan mumbles from next to me. His expression is trying to be a smile, but it comes off as a grimace more than anything. I appreciate the attempt at least. "A bee should not be able to fly."

"Is that a joke?"

"Sort of." He sighs. "One of those weird things that's not quite a joke and not quite a meme. I can't explain why it's funny."

"Your world is weird Nathan."

"Yeah. I know."

Well that was mildly depressing. You know what's not depressing? Talking to Nah after she comes down from flying! I've got questions for her. "Hey, hey Nah."

"What?" She sounds exasperated already. How rude! I'm being friendly here! It's probably because I'm cute and she thinks I'm competition. That has to be it. Not that thing about Owain, nope, it's because I'm cute. Too bad for her I'm number one at literally everything because I'm just that awesome. She'll have to accept her defeat!

"Are manaketes people who turn into a dragon using a stone, or are they dragons that turn into people and put their power into stones?" I ask. "Which one is their true form?"

"Well I'm only half manakete." Nah says. "So I'm a special case, but for normal manaketes they're technically dragons that turn into people. Granted, from what Mom told me you can be born in human form with two manakete parents if they're in human form during the whole pregnancy, so…"

"It's weird and complicated?"

"Pretty much." Nah nods. "For me, I think my human form is my normal one. I'm a half-breed. Half human half dragon. I don't know if that technically makes me a manakete at all, actually…"

"Well you can turn into a dragon."

"Yeah, but a manakete is technically a dragon that has confined their power to a dragonstone." Nah explains. "They're still dragons, it's just that manakete is what you call a dragon that has undergone that process. I'm not a dragon, I'm half dragon, and my human form might be my normal form, so I don't know if that makes me a manakete, a reverse manakete. or if I'm just a girl with some dragon magic."

"Wait." I say. "So manaketes were actually dragons? Like, full-blooded dragons?"

"Yep. They just hide it."

"Woaaah." I say. "When Nathan told me about them, I thought dragons and manaketes were two different things."

"Nope. Manaketes are just a subset of dragon."

"Cool…"

"Any more questions you just can't bear to hold in?" Nah asks. She's being sarcastic. I know she's being sarcastic. I also don't care.

"Yes! How old are you? Who's your father? What's Inigo like? Do you like board games? Do you know any good ones? Where did you get those clothes? Do you know you look like a doll?" I take a deep breath after the last question, then smile and eagerly await a response.

"Eighteen, Ricken, he's a womanizer, they're fine, no, I bought them, yes and I hate that people keep mentioning it." Nah responds flatly. "Happy?"

"Yes! I bet they keep mentioning it because you're cute. Not as cute as me, but pretty cute!"

"Sure." Nah's says. "Now don't talk to me for, like, two hours. You're exhausting."

###

In our haste to leave town, we didn't get a tent or bedroll for Nah (Kjelle donated her own bedroll, and she, Noire, and Nah all managed to squeeze into one tent) so we remedy that when we reach town that afternoon.

My legs ache from walking all day when we get back from the market though. I didn't get the usual piggyback from Nathan, so I'm feeling the burn this time. "My poor legs..."

"That means you're improving." Kjelle says. "You want that feeling."

"No, I really don't." I respond. "I'm not a masochist like you."

Kjelle's lips thin. "You're a poor excuse for a soldier then. If you're not constantly striving to improve, how do you expect to be able to defend others?"

"Hey, I said I wasn't a masochist, not that I wasn't trying to be better." I protest. "I practice my magic!"

"Magic isn't everything." Kjelle insists.

I roll my eyes. "Neither is physical training."

"You should at least be able to get through a march. That's the bare minimum of being a soldier." Kjelle says.

"I did get through a march. I did so today!" I retort.

"And you complained for the last half an hour. Clearly you're out of shape if a normal march is unusually hard on you." Kjelle insists. "Even Laruent could march without issue, and he's a mage like yourself."

"Good for him." I say. "I don't care."

"You cannot afford to be so lazy." Kjelle scolds. "For your own good as well as the good of others, you need to put in more effort."

"You just don't like that I have a boyfriend who will give me rides."

"No." Kjelle says flatly. "I honestly couldn't care less about that. As long as you keep up your training, I have no issue with you occasionally getting rides. I want us to all survive and be ready for Grima's rise, and all the battles that are going to come with the Valm campaign, and that means constant training."

"None of that is going to happen for at least two years if Nathan's info is accurate." I remind her. "But I suppose I can see your point. I've been a bit negligent. I could stand to walk a bit more."

"That's all I ask." Kjelle says. She then hesitates, closes her eyes for a moment, and continues speaking. "I realize we're not on the best of terms, so let me make the situation clear: I don't like you, and it's because you can't seem to take anything seriously. Worse than not liking you though, I don't trust you. In this case I don't trust you for the same main reason I don't like you, and I don't think I can reasonably be expected to follow the lead of someone I don't trust."

Okay, I guess this is a serious conversation now. I've admittedly been putting off this conversation for a few days, so now is as good a time as ever. "I do take things seriously, I just don't address them as such. No need for undue doom and gloom! I was very serious about Nah, but I also realized we hadn't taken a proper break for months. I probably could have handled the situation better, but I stand by my reasoning. Leaving three hours earlier wasn't going to make a difference, and we knew Nah wasn't in immediate danger."

"I suppose." Kjelle says, though she clearly doesn't like my response. "Let me put it this way. Would you have had the same reaction if it was Nathan in Nah's position, or your father?"

"Of course not."

"Would you have been alright with me insisting we not leave to find them immediately once we knew how to find them?"

"I mean, depending on your reason I might have accepted it. Not sure I'd be happy about it though."

"There's my point." Kjelle says. She crosses her arms. "And now imagine that I told you, regardless of how much I actually meant it, that the reason we aren't going to help them immediately is because I want to go shopping."

"Okay, point taken, I handled it badly." I huff.

"But is the point really taken? Are you actually listening?" Kjelle asks sharply. "I wouldn't put it past you to ignore me because you're confident in your own decisions. I know full well how much of an ego you have."

"Rude!" I pout. I know she has a point though. My ego has gotten me into trouble before, like on the boat. "I'm listening!"

Kjelle is unmoved. "I'll believe it when I see evidence. I've said my part. It's up to you to decide what to do about it."

Well screw you too. You have a point and I'll keep it in mind, but screw you.

###

"Why are your ears pointed?"

"I don't know."

"Do you fly by physical means or magical?"

"I don't know."

"What are your favourite colors?"

"Blue and green. Light green."

I scribble that down. "Are we friends?"

"Not yet."

"Why are you so cute?"

"Luck."

"Are you sure you won't-"

"You're not getting a ride anytime soon."

"Aww…"

###

So, remember how I said we went out to get a tent for Nah? Specifically, that was me, Kjelle, and Nah. Noire and Nathan stayed behind at the inn where we rented rooms. That's important, because I come back to find them actually talking to each other.

This is important because Noire and Nathan almost never talk to each other. They're both shy and awkward, Noire is somewhat disturbed about Nathan's future knowledge, and Nathan constantly fumbles his words when under pressure (such as when talking to an attractive girl like Noire). So this situation is really unprecedented.

The two of them are in mine and Nathan's room, and I heard them through the door, so you better bet I put my ear to that thing and start listening!

"-could talk to Morgan." Noire is saying.

"I will." Nathan responds. His voice is dull and hoarse. "Didn't want to in the morning, and not with everyone around. Probably after dinner."

"Ah." Noire says. "I-I didn't mean to be presumptuous or anything, b-but Morgan doesn't remember anything, and I know what it's like to realize you won't be going home, so I-I thought I might be able to help…"

"And I appreciate it." Nathan says. "You… you're better now, right? Mostly?"

"Oh! W-Well, mostly." Noire says. "I-It's not the old world that I miss so much as I miss how my mother used to be before Grima. I've had a long time to get used to it."

"If it's any condolence…" Nathan offers hesitantly. "The game endings tend to have Tharja turn out better than her future version, all from everything I've seen from this world so far negative traits tend to be less prominent, so there's hope."

"That's… that's good." Noire whispers. "I hope it turns out well."

The two of them fall quiet, and I take this opportunity to slink away from the door. I'll probably mention later that I overheard, but I don't want to barge in now.

"How very in-character for Nathan to turn the situation around to Noire." I muse silently. That's not the first time he's done something of the sort. Whenever he receives help, he seems to feel obliged to offer something in return. "But he talks to Noire before me? Really? C'mon… I wanted to help!"

I'm not actually too annoyed. Noire saw that she had enough in common with his situation to try and offer comfort, and did so. She very rightfully recognized that I haven't gone through the same thing. My amnesia is a different case. I can only mourn what might have been, whereas those two can mourn family and friends and all sorts of other things with complete and painful clarity.

"Or maybe she's just trying to steal my boyfriend because she can't bear to lose to me." I joke to myself. "I'm so cute she's intimidated by me, clearly that's it!"

The joke would be a lot more fun if someone were around to hear it. I can imagine Nathan either expanding on the joke or throwing out a compliment like he usually does. I could also tease him about how he's awkward around Noire because she's hot, that's always fun. Oh, or we could fall into the old standby of me being the center of his "collection" of girls! That's always a fun scenario to play with.

It hasn't been a day and I'm already missing my banter with Nathan. I really need other friends, if only so I have other people to vent my energy on when me and Nathan are separated for more than a few hours.

I'm glad to see Nathan and Noire talking though. Nathan could use another friend.

###

I know the talk is coming because of what I overheard, so I'm ready when Nathan quietly murmurs "I'm not going home." when we retire to our room after dinner.

"I assumed as much." I reply gently. "Is it not possible to recreate the portal?"

"I think it is." He says, to my surprise. "Naga said it was possible for me to get home."

What? "Why aren't you going to go home then?"

"Because there, I'm dead." He rasps. "Heart attack. If I went back, even if I could get my old body, I'd still have to explain that away, and no explanation would convince them that I don't have brain damage or some mental illness. That's not taking into account that I would have a second body either. There's no way I could explain that."

I'm not sure if it's better or worse that he could technically get home but doing so would effectively be worse than staying here. On one hand he has closure, and on the other it must feel like the universe is spitting in his face and taunting him that he can get home but it won't improve his situation.

"So I'm stuck here." He continues dully. "Though it's not all bad news."

"Oh?"

"Apparently I can get my old body back in some fashion. Naga said to talk to Miriel."

"Ooh! That is good news!" I say with maybe a bit too much eagerness. I really want to see what he looks like okay? Also, can I just say how weird it is that he can casually mention that he talked to Naga now? That is weird, right?

"I hope getting my body back isn't painful. I don't like pain." He mutters.

"But it would be worth it, right?"

"I think you underestimate how squeamish I am."

"Anesthetic spells exist." I reassure him. "If that helps."

"It does." He flops onto the bed on his back. "Kinda."

When he doesn't speak for a minute, I pipe up again. "Was that it?"

"More or less." He murmurs. "I won't get to talk to my family ever again, which is depressing of course, but I imagine I'll get over that eventually. I have you."

"Of course you do!" Normally I'd add a joke about how I'm so awesome that I make up for any loss, but that would be insensitive right now. "A cute girlfriend doesn't make up for everything, but it's pretty sweet!"

"Yeah." He says softly. "Thanks Morgan."

Don't give me doe eyes now! You're sad! Don't tempt me while you're sad! Stop being cute! "No problem!" I chirp, and also flop onto the bed. "So… is this the part where we cuddle?"

"If you want."

I poke him in the cheek. "Nathan, you're the one who's distraught. The question is if it's what you want."

His voice is barely audible, and he turns his head away as he speaks. "Yes please."

Stop. Being. Cute. Also, why are you acting nervous? I offered this literally five seconds ago. It's not like I'm suddenly going to refuse. This isn't the time to tackle his paranoia though. We can deal with that later. Now is the time for hugs!

Despite the generally horrible circumstances surrounding this, it's a pleasant way to spend the evening. I can imagine it will be much more fun in the future when he's not in mourning.

"I wonder what this will be like when he gets his old body too." I muse. Apparently he was shorter than he is now. I have to wonder if I'll be taller than him at some point. Assuming, of course, I can grow. Being taller than him would be fun. He could be the one on my lap when we sit around the fire. Hehe…

Focus! Not the time for that. Naga, maybe Kjelle is right and I can't be serious. I can't help but look forward to better times though! Things will get better, and it will be great when they do, and so I look forward to them. Simple. I want to enjoy life! Is that so wrong?

I'm still getting distracted. Focus Morgan! Someone as awesome as you can focus for a few hours on comforting someone.

###

It takes a few days before Nathan starts to come out of his cuddle-and-cry state. It starts with a joke (albeit a really weak one), and an offer of a ride which I accept (I know Kjelle told me to exercise more, and I will, but I'm not going to turn down the first gesture Nathan offers me while recovering from his funk).

A welcome side-effect of this ordeal is that Noire is less of a recluse in our group. After her and Nathan's heart-to-heart, she's occasionally willing to contribute to a conversation that isn't about our trip. Not frequently, but sometimes, and that's an improvement.

For example, Nathan is asking about dark magic. Specifically "How is it different from anima? I know the games say that it's addictive or that it relies on negative emotion or something, but this world isn't exactly like the games so I thought I'd ask."

Noire speaks up before I can, because (I guess thanks to Tharja) she actually knows something about dark magic. "D-Dark magic doesn't rely on negative emotion exactly. It's just a lot easier to recall and induce intense negative emotion on a whim than positive emotions. There are dark magic spells for growing plants and curing sickness, but it's hard to force yourself to feel love or joy, especially when dealing with a potentially stressful situation."

"So negative emotion is simply more practical?"

"Y-Yes." She nods. "I-I actually know a curse or two that are based on positive emotion."

"Sorry, a curse that's based on positivity?" I ask.

"Yes. A curse is a permanent effect with a specific trigger to remove it. The effect doesn't necessarily have to be bad." Noire explains. "I-I know a curse that helps ease muscle aches as long as you don't use too much energy, and another that lets you walk on water as long as you keep your breathing steady."

"Those are really specific requirements to keep the curses going." I point out. "And why not just have a permanent effect? Why have dispel criteria at all?"

"It actually makes the curse easier to cast." Noire explains. "H-Having a dispel criteria means you don't have to put as much energy towards making sure the curse sticks around. For that water walking curse, I only have to make sure the spell sticks around so long as they keep their breathing steady, which is one effect, so I don't have to put any energy into making sure it stays around if you cough, or if you turn into a boar, of anything like that."

"So you can skimp on other parts of the casting to make the curse easier to cast." Nathan says. "The easier the curse is to dispel, the easier it is to cast and sustain."

"Exactly. That's why it's hard to make powerful permanent effects, because they have to have so many conditions to keep them from being negated and counter-spelled." Noire murmurs. "That's why cursing is so easy to learn too, because the power requirements to get started with basic curses are so low, and can be supplemented by emotion, that even someone who can't normally conjure a spark of flame for the life of them can usually manage a small curse."

"That also means the more strict the condition, the harder the curse is to cast, right?"

"Yes." Noire nods. "And some things that are called curses aren't technically curses at all. A spell that causes you to slowly wither away isn't technically a curse unless there's intentional weakness in the spell structure to make it easier to cast. If there isn't, then it's just a nasty enchantment."

"Huh." I muse. "That sounds very useful. Maybe I'll have to learn to curse."

"It's easy." Nathan jokes. "Fuck, shit, goddamnit."

"I never thought of that!" I cry. "I'm already a cursing master!"

"Don't you mean a fucking master?" Nathan says with a smile. "Because then it's a curse?"

"Of course! I should have thought of that!" I say. "I'm a fucking master of cursing!"

Noire silently shakes her head and exits the conversation. I'm glad she participated though. Now if we can just get her to roleplay everything will be perfect!

###

Nah gets along surprisingly well with everyone. She's not particularly close to anyone, but she doesn't have a natural animosity towards anyone either. She doesn't mind training or talking about training so she gets along with Kjelle, she and Noire have quiet conversations around the fire about various things (I hear their parents mentioned sometimes, as well as some of the other future kids), she puts up with my questions with only minor irritation if I'm particularly insistent, and she indulges Nathan's questions in exchange for the occasional piggyback ride.

Maybe that's what I need to get Nah to like me more. A bribe! Nathan can offer rides, so I need to offer something else. Maybe money? I have a lot of that. That might be too blatant though. I need to be subtle. What does Nah like? Maybe I can buy her friendship with a new… uh… hair clip.

I really need to find out what she likes. I should also write it down. I have notes for Nathan but no one else. I should start writing down what everyone likes in case I need to bribe them in the future! Genius idea Morgan! This is why you're a master tactician! Twenty steps ahead!

When I proudly tell Nathan about my plan, he gives a flat look and says "Morgan, that's a great idea for all the wrong reasons."

"What? Bribery is a great reason!"

"It's really not."

"What then?"

"So you never forget gift ideas when it's someone's birthday, or Christmas."

"What's Christmas?"

"Uh… religious holiday. You give gifts to people."

"I thought you were atheist."

"I am, but my family wasn't, and it's not like I'm going to pass up an opportunity to get gifts and eat good food."

Very pragmatic of you Nathan. I approve! I also have no idea if a holiday like that exists in this world. Specific holidays are something that I can't remember. "But what's wrong with bribing people?" I ask petulantly.

"If I seriously have to answer that question, I'm very concerned." Nathan replies. "Though I suppose if you're bribing the bad guys it could be useful sometimes."

"Bribe the guards, kill the lords! Take their money!" I proclaim in our usual over dramatic fashion.

"Then forge their wills and take their land!" He adds, jumping into the act. "And slaughter all their remaining family so none can oppose you!"

"Gut the ranks of royalty and nobility! Become the only ruler left!" I cry. "Become a living god in the eyes of others! Blood! Money! Sex! All of it at your fingertips!"

"Grima himself will gawk at the size of your empire!" Nathan proclaims. "All hail Morgan, the Thieving Queen!"

"All hail me!" I shout, and just for effect I stick a hand up in the air and let fly some small sparks. I'm grinning like an idiot at this point. "The best briber in the history of bribing! The best forger on the planet! An all-around scumbag if I wasn't so Naga-damned cute, and I'm the best at that too! Anyone who I can't swindle I can charm the pants off! Literally if I want!"

Kjelle cuts in. "Do you have to be disgusting every single time you two do an act?"

"It's not disgusting, you're just a prude." I protest. "And I don't do it every time!"

"Just frequently." Nathan points out, and pokes me in the nose. "Lewd girl."

I have a strong temptation to nibble his finger or make a lewd comment, but I hold off. I don't want to give Kjelle even more evidence against me. It would be fun to see Nathan sputter though. Or maybe he'd play along, I don't know, but I think embarrassment would be more likely. That's fine though. More chances for me to press the attack and- okay, I'm getting ahead of myself. "You know it and you love it!"

"I mean, you're not wrong." He admits nervously. "Uh, but for now, down girl."

I can't help my wide grin. "Woof."

"Can you two not?!" Kjelle barks.

"You're no fun." I pout. Someday I'm actually going to get to go further with my lewd jokes, and it will be a glorious day indeed.

###

It's my job to get us transport to Ylisse, and it's to my surprise when Nathan offers to help. I accept of course.

Nathan sucks at talking to people. I'm not being mean, that's just a fact. Still, he's making an effort to help, so I won't turn him down. If he learns now he'll be able to do it on his own in the future. Getting transport isn't difficult exactly, you just need to be careful about negotiating the price… which is something Nathan absolutely can't do, so I'll probably have to step in for that.

I have to wonder just how many basic things Nathan doesn't know how to do. He was a shut-in before, and by his own admission either didn't know how to and/or wasn't comfortable doing very normal things. I remember that time I asked Nathan to see if a shop had a whetstone, and due to an unnecessary amount of politeness he ended up buying it instead and for a ridiculously high price because he has no sense of money.

Fear not Nathan! Your incredible girlfriend will show you how to be a functional human being! Wait, that sounds mean. Uh... I will teach you life skills! Yeah, that sounds better. I, your incredibly intelligent and awesome and cute and humble girlfriend will teach you life skills!

Or at least I'll support you while you fumble your way through learning them if it's not something I can teach.

"So we want something relatively cheap." I remind him. "All the half-decent passenger ships are going to be for the super rich people. We want a cargo ship like last time, or maybe a merchant vessel if they don't mind some tag-alongs."

"O-Okay." He mumbles. "How do we tell who's a merchant captain? Wouldn't they look like passenger ship captains?"

I wonder what he thinks a merchant captain looks like. I could just tell him what we're looking for, or I could make this a learning experience. "What do you think?"

Nathan glances to me and back to our surroundings. We're at the dockyard on the south side of the island. He hesitantly points to a woman with a simple, light blue shirt and long, baggy, brown-beige pants.

I can tell even from this distance that the material of her clothes are quite high quality. She's might look like she's dressed in simple clothes, but those are costly simple clothes, and Nathan seems to have missed the two rings on her fingers that look like they're made of gold and silver. They're simple bands, but those are also not cheap. If that lady is a merchant, she's a hella rich one. "I'm fairly sure she owns a passenger ship Nathan." That's probably how she has so much money to spend: because she gouges rich people for her job.

"Oh." He cringes. "Then... him?"

This time he points to a rather rough-looking man dressed in woolen browns and beiges with a wide-brimmed brown hat tied to his head with a cord. I'm pretty sure Nathan picked him out just because he has a hat and most people are wearing bandannas. It's not the worse guess he could have made. If someone is going to stand out from the crowd of generic sailors, it's not too unreasonable to assume they're mildly important. Judging by the fact that this man is hauling crates rather than directing other people, however, I'm fairly sure that's another bad guess. "No again."

"Oh." He starts looking again, and I grab his shoulder. He tried, and he's only going to depress himself if he makes another mistake. Time to solve and explain it for him.

"Try him." I say, and point to a fairly safe guess. The man doesn't look too different from anyone else around him. He's got a bandanna and weather worn, beige and brown clothes. "It's not the dress that's important necessarily, look at the behavior. He's giving orders, right? He's also talking to that dockhand with a ledger, maybe about inventory or just how long he plans to be here or whatever, but that's not something any old crewmate is going to do. If he's not the captain, he's at least a first mate or someone important on the ship."

Nathan nods in understanding. "Right. That makes sense. Should have been looking at actions."

I stare at Nathan while he watches the captain. After several seconds, I nudge Nathan with my shoulder. "And now we go and ask if he's leaving port soon, and if we can buy a ride."

"R-Right." He pauses for a second, probably expecting me to lead, and when I don't he finally realizes that I'm making him do this. He wanted to come along and help, so that's what I'm facilitating. "Me?"

"I'll be right beside you." I say, and wrap myself around one of his arms. "But yes, you. You wanted to help, right?"

"Right." He says. His voice is unsteady, I can feel the tension in his arm, and I can see the way his fingers come together and squeeze each other. I have to wonder how he got through life before if just talking to people is nerve-wracking. "O-Okay, let's go."

We weave our way through the various sailors and dockhands and over to the captain. Nathan waits until the captain is no longer speaking with the man with the ledger, takes a deep breath, and approaches.

"P-Pardon me." Nathan says. The captain doesn't notice at all due to Nathan's quiet voice, and so Nathan has to repeat himself but louder. "Pardon me!"

The captain turns to face us with his brow furrowed. I know that's confusion on his face, but I'm expecting Nathan to think it's annoyance. Judging by how his arm tightens in mine, I think I'm right. "What? What is it? Was there another form? Are you from the dockmaster too?"

"I- We- No." Nathan stutters. "W-We wish to inquire if you are captaining a ship that is returning t-to Ylisse soon."

That's very formal, and totally unlike how Nathan normally speaks. Considering we're talking to a captain, likely of a cargo ship, it's probably to Nathan's detriment to be speaking so formally because it's going to make him sound high-class, and cross-class interactions are less likely to go over smoothly due to animosity between the members of those classes. It's not an unbridgeable gap, but it is an unnecessary extra complication. I'm going to guess that didn't occur to Nathan though. Maybe the formal speech is a stress-response.

The captain crosses his arms and scrutinizes Nathan, taking in the shabby clothes but clean-shaven face, as well as me clinging to his arm. I grin and wink at the captain, and he raises an eyebrow. "And if I am?"

"We would like to purchase passage for five if that is the case." Nathan says. "Only, of course, if you have space for us."

"What business do a Chon'sinese and a Plegian have in Ylisse?" The captain asks suspiciously.

I'm not sure if I should regard that question as being xenophobic or not. His tone suggests xenophobia, but it is a legitimate question (disregarding the fact that we're already in Ylisse, and even if we weren't we'd be crossing from the Feroxi border).

"We're visiting family in Ylisstol." Nathan says. His stammers have stopped, and his explanation sounds oddly rehearsed. Has he been in situations like this before? "We were doing some mercenary work up in Ferox, and had to stop by this island to pick the last of our group because she was visiting family of her own."

The Captain still looks cautious, but he doesn't question our motive further. "Well a cargo ship is a crowded place. We don't have much extra space. It'll cost ya to come along."

"Thirty copper per person." I cut in, knowing that Nathan can't negotiate price. Thirty is probably a bit low. The food cost per person is probably around twenty-eight copper for a week long trip (two meals a day that are worth around two copper), and adding onto that the space we'll take up and the fact that we won't be helping at all around the boat and it's reasonable for him to ask for more than thirty. However, if he only wants to offer super basic food like bread and water, or maybe just soup, then thirty copper is actually reasonable, and we'll decline because I don't want to eat bread and water for seven days.

"Two silver. Each." He counters. That's ridiculously high. Let me remind you that staying at an inn in Ferox for one day was less than ten copper for one room, and less than twenty for two, and meals only cost maybe three copper each if you're getting basic stuff. If we want to go by some sort of calculation... let's say seven copper for a room a day, so seven times seven for one room for a week is forty-nine, and then each individual meal is three copper, so that's five people times three meals that cost three copper times seven days which is one-hundred and eighty-nine copper, so for all of us that would be two-hundred and thirty-eight copper, or two silver and thirty-eight copper total, not individually. Even if we allow meals to cost a bit more, which is absurd to consider because three copper per meal is already quite a bit for basic foodstuff, it's nowhere near worth two silver a person.

"If you're charging us that, we better be getting some damn fine food and two good rooms." I scoff. Next to offer something more reasonable, but a bit lower than I'm willing to go. "Fifty each. That's more than enough to cover some decent food for each of us." Either that's two meals a day worth three copper, or three meals worth two, which would amount to forty-two copper each in both cases. Either way, if I'm paying more than a copper for one meal, I better be getting some vegetables or meat.

For reference, a single basic loaf of bread is worth about one copper. A single loaf of bread could also probably feed two people for a meal if they only had bread. My point is, if I'm paying two-to-three copper per meal, I better get more than bread unless you're giving me multiple full loaves. It doesn't have to be much more, but it has to be something.

"I think you're underestimating just how much two rooms on my ship is worth." The captain huffs.

"We can take one." I say. "As long as there's at least four mattresses."

"Four?"

"Four."

"It would have to be hammocks. We don't got the money to waste on mattresses."

Ahh, that might be a bad sign. "Do you have modern barrels for food and water storage?"

T

"What? You mean the two-walled ones?" The captain says. "'Course I do. Any self-respectin' captain would. They're the reason we don't got any mattresses."

That's a relief at least. "Well that's fine then. We can take one room if it will fit five people." We can just use our bedrolls and blankets if need be. "So, fifty is fine? Two and a half silver total?"

"Seventy each." He shoots out.

"Don't insult me." I scoff. "My offer is perfectly reasonable. Two copper for a simple meal per person is already pushing it considering what you can offer if you're tight on money, and assuming that's three meals a day for a week, that's forty-two copper per person. That leaves eight copper per person to cover the room, which is forty whole copper, which is far more than enough. I could have argued to pay forty-five copper a person. If anything, I'm being generous here, because if you have a room you can spare in the first place you weren't getting any money from it and whatever I offer is just a bonus."

The captain stares me down, and I return his stare with utter confidence. I know I'm right. It's up to him if he wants to be stubborn and ruin his chances at some solid money by getting greedy. As it turns out, he's not that stupid, and he reluctantly nods his head. "Fifty per person, one room, good food. We leave in two days, sunup. Got more cargo coming tomorrow."

"Good." I say with a smug grin. "I'll give you your money when we're about to leave. In the meantime…" I fish two silver out of my coin pouch and hand them to him. "Get your men some proper mattresses man, and some good food for everyone while you're at it. I don't want to be eating bread and water."

He stares in surprise at the extra money, and then swiftly pockets it. "Alrighty then, welcome aboard Miss…?"

How quickly his distrust changes when I throw a bit of money around. Predictable. "Morgan." I say, and then lean into Nathan. "And Nathan."

"Miss Morgan, Sir Nathan." He nods. "Is there anything else."

It really is comical how his demeanor has changed. "We're good, thank you Captain. We'll see you in two days then, sunrise."

I cheerfully lead Nathan away from the docks with our mission accomplished. That was shaky at the start but turned out fine.

"You did well Nathan!" I chirp. Well, he did well after I pointed him in the right direction. For someone with next to no social skills by their own admittance, that went fine.

"I couldn't even find a captain. I got it wrong twice." He mumbles.

"The actual talk went fine." I say. "You didn't annoy him and got our desires across. Don't worry."

"But-"

"Don't. Worry." I repeat a bit more forcefully. "You did fine and you'll improve next time. Don't angst over it."

"Okay…"

You worry too much Nathan. That would be belittling to say though, especially considering he probably knows that already.

"Thanks Morgan." He mumbles, and gives me a one-armed squeeze. "For staying next to me."

Sap. "What? Are you saying you wouldn't have stayed next to me in the same situation?" I say teasingly.

"O-Of course I would have! I was thanking you to be polite!" He stammers, apparently missing the tease.

"It was a joke Nathan." I reassure him. "And it was no problem. I'm more than happy to do that if it makes you feel better."

"Oh…"

Hmm, I need to relieve some of his anxiety. Time for flirty Morgan! I tighten my grip on his arm and pull it against my body. "And besides, you totally enjoy having a cute girl pressing herself into you, didn't you?"

His face rapidly turns red, though he does squeak out "Yes."

Never underestimate the power of flirtation! Guaranteed to improve your mood, especially if it's me, because I'm awesome.

###

So I know I'm a super cute, flirty, dirty-minded, mildly boyfriend-obsessed young girl, but I'm also a warrior. I just don't show it all that often because it's not fun to act all "hur dur I can stab people!" That's Kjelle's job. I like being able to flirt, joke, and generally be frivolous. It's fun.

So for the most part it's when we spar that the group is reminded that yes, I do in fact know how to fight. I can't usually beat Kjelle due to her armor, but I'm slowly learning how to exploit the weak points in her armor and how her fighting style leaves them open. Noire I can usually beat in a dagger fight. She's not a pushover, but she is an archer primarily. She has enough skill to not be helpless.

I think she'd do better with having a sword as a backup weapon though, or maybe a spear. A dagger is a bit too short-ranged for the battlefield.

Nah I can't spar with. She's a dragon. Her fire doesn't have a "not horribly painful" setting. She'd probably thrash all of us due to her raw strength and resilience though. Dragons are strong.

And then, Nathan. Nathan sucks. I'm sure that's not a surprise. Fighting him is not an exercise in how quickly I can win, in fact it's not really a competition at all. With Nathan I'm teaching because his skill level is too low to pose a proper threat at the moment.

It's a different story if we do hand-to-hand where his raw strength is enough to be a threat, but with weapons he's almost helpless. Even with hand-to-hand I win every round. It doesn't help that he's extremely pain-averse, so he doesn't use his more useful options against me like grabs because that ends up with me kneeing him in the gut or kicking him in the shins most of the time. Though to be fair, if it were an actual fight I'd be kneeing him in the groin and without free hands he really wouldn't have a way to defend against that even if I were grabbed.

Well actually that's not true, he does come up with a way to stop me. Once he manages to land a bear-hug on me and lift me up, he twists his hips to the side and forces his thigh between my legs, then quickly uses one hand to hike my legs around his waist and take a wide stance.

Don't get me wrong, this position is incredibly impractical. Has has to stand with his legs oddly spread apart, rely on the fact that I can't get my own legs back around to his front, and also he has to use one hand to keep my hips pressed against him and only has one arm to keep my arms pinned, and I could still probably bite him like this, but credit where credit is due he did solve his problem to some extent.

I still managed to slip a hand free and chop at his throat, which ends his grab and allows me the opportunity to hop around behind him and force his arms behind his back as he's trying to recover his breath, but he did better this time! Good job Nathan!

He takes a small sip of vulnerary after our spar to get rid of the discomfort lingering around his throat from my chop. From the face he makes, I guess the taste of vulnerary still doesn't agree with him.

"You did better!" I praise.

"I still sucked."

"Well yeah, but that's because you won't do proper grabs." I huff. "Just wrestle next time, you're bigger and stronger than me! You can pin me easily if you can get a hold of me! Just press me into the ground and pin my hands above my head."

"Uh, sure." He mumbles, seemingly minorly embarrassed.

"I know it's kinky." I say, as it just now occurs to me that the position I suggested could be construed as intimate. "But I swear I'm being serious. That is a good position for subduing me. Just make sure my legs are either outside yours, or that you're sitting on my hips or waist so I can't kick you, and that you quickly get a grip on my arms or wrists, or else I can do some serious damage."

"Okay."

"Besides, I'm sure we'll both enjoy it." I quip. Nathan rolls his eyes and, to my surprise, pats me on the head.

"Sure Morgan." He says. "Whatever you say."

"Are you patronizing me?" I pout.

"Yes." He says, with a hint of tease in his voice. "I'm older than you, remember? I'm allowed to patronize you."

"Oh, is that how it works?" I say with a smile. "If you being patronizing gets me pats on the head, I'll happily accept it."

"Though maybe we should keep training rather than flirting." Nathan suggests.

"We can do both." I chirp.

"Or that." He agrees, wearing a smile that looks slightly tired. I wonder if today is a bad day for him. He stopped volunteering his inner turmoil about being stuck in this world a few days after talking with Naga, probably so he doesn't sound whiny, but I'm not foolish enough to assume that he's suddenly better.

At least he's improving. I have to be satisfied with that. I wish he'd say more though, or at least ask for hugs when he needs them.

###

Our accommodations on the ship are bare-bones as I expected. The room is small, not even four meters by four meters, and can barely fit all of us. We're fairly cramped when we sleep, though we're plenty used to that since we sleep in small tents and I always sleep in the same bed as Nathan when we stay at inns anyhow. The mattresses, newly bought, might as well be the floor for how little space there is. I imagine in the future bunk beds will be set up to help with the space issue.

It's only in retrospect that I realize how weird that inn thing is actually. During my first week of life that I can remember, I was totally okay with crawling into bed with a random stranger, and it's carried on from then. I'm more than familiar with Nathan now, but I wasn't before. He had probably saved my life, so there's that, but in hindsight that was a questionable decision made out of loneliness and a desperation for comfort.

Not that you'd have been able to tell, because I can hide my emotions rather well behind a cheery facade.

Anyhow. Our trip is a lot less eventful than last time. Learning from last time, Noire doesn't hide away from the sailors and I make sure not to antagonize them too much. We make ourselves decently social, and me and Nathan even play some barrels with them. The food is fine with vegetables, fruits, bread and meat, and the water is okay. Nothing really happens beyond that.

The week passes without little of note happening. I'm glad to get off the boat where it isn't cramped, and where I don't have Kjelle in the same room as me telling me to stop having fun when I flirt with Nathan.

It would be nice to have a few days I can spend with Nathan alone, where I don't have to worry about Kjelle being a killjoy or having to hold back on what we do when we return to our inn or camp for the same reason. I've had to hold back on anything too forward due to the others (mainly Kjelle). I think that's something I have to put in the back of my mind for later though. Maybe once we're to Ylisstol.

We're going to get to Ylisstol soon now that I think of it. I mean, it will probably take a month and a bit to get to Ylisstol (we don't have snow slowing us down this time), but that means in a month I might be seeing my father. I don't know if I'm excited or worried. Maybe both. Definitely both. I still don't know what to say to him. I really hope everything goes smoothly. Everything should go well. I am awesome, but awesomeness doesn't mean everything goes perfectly.

Anyhow. Ylisse looks a lot different from Ferox, and a lot different from the island of money. The trees don't have huge leaves or pine needles, but generally have smaller leaves that aren't clustered near the top like on the island, but aren't all over the tree even near the bottom like pines. The branches start halfway up the trunk for the most part.

I don't know botany though. I assume the position of branches and leaves are significant, but I really don't know for sure.

Also, as we were walking about, I'm getting odd looks. Me specifically. I think my grimleal-like coat is finally being noticed… or maybe they just really like my coat, or my face, or me because I'm just that awesome.

Yeah, totally the last one. They sense my innate aura of awesomeness and understand on a primal level that I am to be admired and worshiped!

Maybe it's because I've got dragon blood! I think that's what Nathan said. I've got Fell lineage or something, so Grima blood, and therefore I'm part evil dragon god! I'm pretty sure that means I can officially be an evil overlord if I want, and eventually rank up to evil empress! I can be the evil dragon empress of darkness! Woo!

Except being evil is no fun if you're actually evil. Roleplaying evil is great. Actual evil? Not so much.

Also, I have to try this again. "You know, we could get to Ylisstol a lot faster if we had a dragon to ride."

"Not happening." Nah says quickly.

"Aww…"

Chapter Text

You know, it never really clicked with me that the Ylisse-Plegia war being almost over definitely means Risen are out and about. I'm bringing this up now because those things ahead of us on the road are certainly Risen.

I can't get too good a look at them from this distance, so I can't tell what type of Risen they are. By type I don't mean myrmidon or great knight or what have you, I mean I don't know if they're Awakening style Risen or Shadows of Valentia style Risen.

Interesting thing about Risen in Shadows of Valentia, they're technically created by attaching these things called "Death Masks" to the face of corpses. You attach the death mask, and a special bug on the back face of the mask called a "thanatophage" will spread its roots inside the corpse and start to puppet it. So Risen in that game are bug-puppeted mask-wearing corpses, with the thanatophages being controlled by a sorcerer in turn by dark magic (presumably through the Death Masks).

Awakening seems to work a bit differently. Risen can be pulled randomly from the ground, like how Aversa summons those archer Risen before Emmeryn's fall, and if I recall correctly people can become Risen through infection like a zombie, though I've only seen that mentioned on the wiki and never went searching for the source info myself. I think it was mentioned in a DLC called Death's Embrace? The point is, despite the fact that Shadows of Valentia is supposed to give an origin for the Risen, if you look closely at how they work the two games have entirely different mechanics for Risen and it would be nice to know which game they correspond to so that we can better understand them. There's a big difference between fighting a zombie virus versus stopping bugs from puppeting corpses.

So, anyhow, there are Risen ahead of us. Noire went off to scout along the left side of the path a dozen minutes ago, where there are sporadic trees to hide her, and when she comes back she has a report for everyone.

"I see twenty." She whispers, despite the fact that the Risen are both upwind from us and over two miles away and definitely can't hear us. "They look like brigand corpses. Two archers, two swordsmen, the rest are axes. No armor, only furs."

"Got it. Those archers are going to have to die first. Or, I guess they're already dead, so… re-die? Is that a thing?" Morgan muses. "Anyhow, I've never dealt with Risen before, or at least I don't remember dealing with them. What do I need to know?"

"They're dirt stupid unless they're being commanded by someone else." Kjelle says. "They usually just mob the closest living thing, though they have enough smarts to use their weapons. Generally speaking the more combat experience the original person had, the more the Risen does, though to a significantly lesser degree unless they're being commanded. You probably won't see any tactics from these ones."

"Chieftains are a problem." Nah adds. "Some Risen seem to lead the others. We don't know exactly how it happens, but it's usually whoever was an actual leader when they were alive."

"What do chieftains do?" Morgan prods.

"They can call for reinforcements for one." Kjelle growls. "And they're responsible for what little sense of tactics a Risen pack might have. A pack without it's chieftain wouldn't notice a flank attack, even an extremely obvious one, until it was right on top of them."

"Okay…" Morgan mutters. She's jotting this down in her notebook. "So the chieftain is going to have to die first along with the archers, if there is one. Anything else?"

I speak up, addressing everyone but Morgan. "I have a question, do the terms Death Mask or Thanatophage mean anything to you three?"

"Nope."

"N-No."

"Nah."

"Ah." I grimace. "Also, do Risen infect people?"

"Not usually." Noire mumbles. "I-In our time, Risen were… varied. Laurent thinks it was mostly because some powerful sorcerers had done experiments to make them stronger, with a bunch of different results. There were certain Risen that could infect, but usually not. I don't think standard Risen like these can do that."

"Got it." Well that could be significant or totally worthless depending on how much I want to hinge on that tiny kernel of "not usually". Awakening Risen are (presumably) supposed to infect people, so if they usually can't that would suggest these are Valentia style Risen, though at the same time none of the girls know what thanatophages or Death Masks are, so I really can't be sure.

"More game stuff?" Morgan asks. "Anything we can use?"

"Unfortunately not." I admit. "I need to narrow some things down, and it's not going to have much battlefield application either way."

"Ah, shame." Morgan mutters. "Okay, so, we have a bit of a problem. Remember those bandits we killed before?"

"The one where I pretended I was a slave owner?" I ask.

"Yeah, that one. Remember how I blew up, like, five bandits at once."

"With Elfire? Yep. Super hot." I joke.

Morgan's mouth twitches to smile, though she swiftly gets it under control. Right, serious time, I shouldn't be joking. "Yeah that… it only really worked because all those trees funneled the bandits into a small area, and they were too stupid to split up. The Risen are on wide open terrain, so my magic is going to be a lot less useful."

"Maybe we can pick some off?" Noire offers. "I-I can get around their flank and shoot a few before everyone else starts to fight."

"The Risen might focus on you then." Kjelle warns. "And we won't be able to get to you in time to help."

"I'm fast." Noire says. "I-I can run for long enough to survive."

"You're all making this too complicated." Nah huffs. "I'll take the lead. They won't be able to do much to me."

Yeah, fair point. Nah is a dragon after all. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth to just ignore the problem of not knowing how to deal with the Risen otherwise just because we have a kill button on our side. "Out of curiosity, how did you guys usually deal with Risen when you didn't have Nah around?"

"We tried to avoid them." Kjelle admits. "Or we'd hole up between some buildings where I could block everything while everyone else shot over my shoulders."

"And if you had to fight in the open?"

"We created terrain with Laurent." Kjelle said. "Making large walls of fire to force Risen to go where we wanted them to. That was usually just so we could run to somewhere safer though. We tried to avoid open-field combat."

Well that's not very useful or reassuring. Then again, maybe I'm asking too much. Kjelle wasn't the tactician anyways, and we do have a usable kill button so it's nothing to worry about. I just… I like knowing we have a backup plan, or that we could handle this without our overwhelming advantage. I don't like the thought that we'd be dead meat without Nah.

Maybe not dead meat, we'd just go around, but still. It's unsettling. This isn't like the game where every single character might as well be a one-man army if you give them a bit of investment. If you want a one-man army, you better have a manakete or else you're out of luck.

Probably. Again, I'm not familiar with this world. Maybe mages are actually one-man armies as well. I don't know. You know, at this point I'm pretty sure I'm distracting myself with theoretics and whatnot just to keep myself calm. Better to not think about the fact that I might be getting a lot closer to zombies then I ever cared to be in less than an hour.

"I should be able to deal with all of them on my own, but they might come to you as well." Nah warns. "So be ready."

"Alright." Morgan says. "There's a lot of distance between them and us, so we should be fine."

"Famous last words." I think, followed quickly by "I really hope they aren't her last words."

Logically I don't have to be worried. The girls (minus Morgan) have fought Risen before, and Morgan is extremely competent either way, but I'm still nervous. I don't care if we'll probably be fine, I still don't want to be putting my life in danger.

"Just in case, I want Kjelle up front though." Morgan instructs. "If they get too close, I want the three of us-" she points to herself, Noire, and me "-to set up a concave and fire in projectiles on the Risen while Kjelle holds their attention."

"Okay." Noire squeaks.

There's quiet for a moment, and it occurs to me that I'm probably supposed to agree too. "Oh, uh, yeah. Concave. Got it."

Kjelle has an expression on her face that makes it clear she's not thrilled at the idea of me watching her back to any extent, and that's fair because I really don't think I'm going to be doing much.

So Nah flies off to go roast some Risen (do manaketes breath fire? Is it normal fire? Special dragon fire?) while the rest of us set up in case the Risen come to attack us. Kjelle stands out in front, Noire to the right, Morgan to the left, and me directly behind her.

"I'm going to accidentally shoot Kjelle in the back." I think. "Crossbows shoot in a straight line. I guess I can shoot it in an arc, but isn't that going to be less effective?"

I can worry about it later. It doesn't matter. I'm not really expected to do much. It's just a formality to have me in position in the first place. At least, that's what I tell myself so as not to panic about the situation.

You know, dealing with combat was a lot easier when I was still fairly certain I was in a coma. It's easy to ignore paralyzing fear when you think you're dreaming and there are no consequences to your actions.

A distant howl reaches my ears, sounding like a mix between a wolf's cry and a gargle, and I pull my gaze from my crossbow back to the road.

"I think they noticed her a bit early." Morgan warns. I can see Nah in her dragon form spitting out balls of blue-green "fire" at the Risen, but the majority of the Risen are charging at us and ignoring Nah completely. "I think they like us."

"They always do this." Kjelle groans. She readies her spear and shield. "I don't know how they know to ignore fliers if they can't hit them. It's so annoying. I didn't think these ones would be smart enough for that."

"That would have been nice to know." Morgan barks. "Tell me that next time!"

Nah thins the ranks of the Risen before they get close to us, but we're still left with ten or so to deal with by the time they're in range for Noire to start shooting. The archers and the chieftain are gone, but there are still a bunch of shambling- well, running- zombies coming at us.

Noire calmly draws and fires her bow, and Morgan prepares a spell with no real rush. While a bit irritated at Kjelle not offering up the information earlier, Morgan doesn't exactly seem worried about our situation.

"Morgan is calm. That's good. We're fine then." I tell myself. "Morgan would know if something is wrong. We're fine."

I know my crossbow doesn't have as long a range as Noire's bow, so I wait until Morgan starts using elfire before I launch my first shot.

I was aiming at the foremost Risen, but I'm not used to firing in an arc so my shot falls pitifully short. I can also see just how much slower it is to reload my crossbow than shoot another shot from Noire's bow, as she's firing easily three times faster than me. It takes me the same amount of time to shoot my crossbow as Morgan to launch a spell.

I eventually find my range, though my shots are still painfully inaccurate. I don't know if it's wind, something wrong with my arrows or bow, something wrong with my technique, or some combination of the three that makes my shots miss their target so often.

Or it might be my shaking arms. Adrenaline is not helpful when you're doing precision work.

The Risen fall consistently. One, then another, then another, then another. Usually it's to Nah, sometimes to Morgan, and more rarely to Noire. There's only two left by the time Kjelle makes contact. One is sniped by Noire through the head, and the other runs itself onto Kjelle's spear point with little fanfare.

For all my worry, the Risen were a non-issue. We don't have a scratch on us. Of course I worked myself into a panic for nothing. I let out a long breath and lower my crossbow.

"Next time, I'll thank you to give me all the information beforehand." Morgan huffs. "Otherwise, good job everyone. Nice shooting Noire."

"Th-Thank you…"

"You were awesome Nah."

"Of course I was." Nah says pridefully. She's still in dragon form, hovering over our heads.

"Kjelle… you did something."

"Yeah yeah." Kjelle scoffs.

"Good job Nathan."

Notably, she didn't add specific praise. She knows full well I didn't do much and is being polite. Still, I appreciate the thought. "Thanks."

Nah untransforms a few feet above the ground and lands in human form in what has to be a practiced move. Our weapons are put away, and (with gloves on for safety) the girls search the bodies… or more specifically the clothes and weapons, as the bodies dissolved into purple dust when they die. They scrounge a few copper and some arrows, but nothing else of use.

We walk a mile past the Risen's original location. The others are already calm, apparently having forgotten the fight already. The only sign of it ever happening is my lasting nervousness and Morgan's arm though mine on my left side as reassurance.

The calmness of everyone else is probably why I'm the only person who notices a wheezing noise mixing with the wind, and why I turn my head to the left and see a Risen rushing out from behind a cluster of trees with three more trailing behind it, all armed with old rusted pitchforks and dressed in farmer's garb.

It's a cliche to say, but everything does seem to happen in slow motion. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug. I shriek out something along the lines of "Morgan!" and instinctively push her behind me before fumbling for a weapon. My hands go to my crossbow, I think better of it, then I wrench my axe from it's holster with enough force to snap the restraint.

Any thoughts of the weapon triangle or even basic battle tactics are completely out the window right now. I didn't have time to prepare like the other fights I've been in so far, there's no coherent thought or plan going into this. I know that Risen are in front of me and Morgan is behind me, and with that primitive understanding of the situation I come to the questionable conclusion that me moving out of the way means Morgan getting run through with a rusty pitchfork.

I don't have the element of surprise to bury my axe in someone's back like that first fight with the slavers, and I'm not acting as bait to delay for someone else to take action like the second fight with the bandits. This time, I'm standing directly in the path of four Risen with a significantly shorter range axe and no battle plan.

The result is predictable.

The thrust of the pitchfork is clumsy, but my attempt to hook the shaft with my axe is even more so and the points of the tool find purchase in my shoulder and I drop my weapon from muscle spasms and pain.

It's only by the miracle of everyone else's lightning reflexes that no more damage is done. Before the Risen striking me can even retract his weapon he's obliterated by a blast of electricity, and the others are done in by a hail of arrows, dragonfire, and a few well-placed spear thrusts. The whole "battle" takes maybe five seconds, but somehow those four Risen farmers did more damage than the whole twenty-man Risen brigand group.

Kjelle shouts something, and I can hear Nah flapping her wings somewhere above me, but I'm not paying attention. I'm still looking around for more Risen and frantically scooping up my axe with my off-hand, and I nearly trip over my own feet while doing so. When something touches my back, I twist around so quickly that I almost hurt myself and put my axe up between me and my presumed attacker.

There's no attackers left, obviously. The person who put their hand on my back is just Morgan. Her reflexes are also a lot better than mine, so my axe handle is parried and my arm grabbed before I even get in position.

"Nathan." She says calmly, while keeping a firm grip on my forearm. "It's over."

"W-We just got attacked out of nowhere!" I protest, and continue to look around for more signs of trouble despite being restrained. "I noticed first! You don't know that it's over!"

"Do you see more Risen?" Morgan asks, still very calm.

"Not at the moment, but that doesn't mean there aren't more!"

"Nathan." She says firmly. "Kjelle and Noire are paying attention now. Relax."

"Let me have my axe." I counter. She's still holding my arm, which is holding my axe. I'm not going to risk that being taken from me.

To my surprise, she does so. I was honestly expecting her to insist I relax before she released me, like a proper patronizing parent who doesn't bother to see things from the other person's perspective and thinks that obviously they must be right. I really should give Morgan more credit.

I don't put my axe away, but I do lower it as I verify that, yes, Kjelle and Noire are in fact watching out for Risen. Only then do I reluctantly put the axe down (not away, just on the ground) and sit in the dirt and take a moment to put my head between my legs and wrap my arms around myself and try not to vomit.

I've always had drastic overreactions to injury. It's rather annoying actually, because there's usually some dissonance between what I feel emotionally and what my body is doing. I can be calm, recognizing the injury is minor and unimportant, but my body will decide "nope, fuck you, you're having a panic attack" and even though I'm totally calm otherwise I have to sit down and wait for it to be over. It's honestly more of an irritation to have a panic attack rather than something that's actually scary or worrying. It's not unusual for me to have completely calm, normal conversations with someone else right in the middle of panic attacks because emotionally I'm fine and I'm just waiting for my body to catch up and stop freaking out.

This, sadly, is not one of those cases. This is one of the lovely cases where my emotions actually match my physical state; that's to say: panic.

I'm not fully aware of the consequences of being stabbed with a rusty pitchfork, but I know it's probably not good. There are certainly diseases and nasty infections that could result from such an injury. The pain is also starting to appear. I think my adrenaline was numbing it before.

Again, adrenaline is a hell of a drug.

"Nathan." Morgan whispers. I think she's kneeling next to me, but I don't want to turn my head to look. "You have to drink a vulnerary."

I'm not sure drinking something right now is a good idea, but I choke down a mouthful of vulnerary despite that.

"So…" Morgan says, still speaking quietly. "Remember how Kjelle mentioned that chieftains can call for reinforcements? I'm guessing that cry we heard at the start of the battle was the chieftain, and those four Risen that just attacked were other nearby Risen that heard the cry and came to help."

I nod silently, still not getting out of my position. That makes sense to me.

"We won't make that mistake in the future." Morgan murmurs. "Also, thank you for trying to protect me, even though it didn't turn out so well."

'Didn't turn out so well' is an understatement. I'm our first injury of this whole adventure, and it was because of my own incompetence. I could have backed off and let everyone else obliterate the Risen, but instead I let impulse get the best of me. That's what I get for ignoring logic and tactics and letting adrenaline guide my actions.

"Why couldn't this fight be like the other ones?" I whisper. "I didn't freak out after those."

"You also thought you were in a coma the first fight, and didn't really have time to worry about the second encounter before it started." Morgan offers.

"Don't make excuses for me." I mumble. "I'm handling this worse."

"As long as you save your worry for after the fight and not during, it's really not a problem Nathan." Morgan reassures. I can feel her hands on my back, rubbing in circles to comfort me.

It only takes a minute for my panic to subside, and I can stand again after that (albeit on shaky legs). No one else comments, and Morgan clings to arm for the entire rest of the day.

My injury is gone within the hour, and the only sign I got it in the first place are the holes in my clothes and a blood stain or two.

###

"Careful." Noire frets as I weave the needle in and out of the fabric. I feel like I'm focusing more than I ever have before on not stabbing myself by accident. This is probably why people wear thimbles.

I'm learning to sew, to some extent at least. I have my shirt laid out on a table, and I'm trying to do my first repair with Noire's guidance. I'm actually wearing Morgan's coat at the moment (she still has an undershirt) so I don't have to be topless while repairing my shirt.

Morgan's coat is heavy! I know it's because she has tomes and dozens of other things in here, but I have to wonder how she can stand to wear this all the time. Her poor shoulders. How is she not complaining about aches all the time?

"S-So now you want to push the needle all the way through to the inside." Noire whispers. "A-And then you want to knot it."

I follow her instructions as best I can. It's hard with these large sausage fingers this body has. My old body was skinny and boney, and so were my fingers, so I imagine I could get more precision with them than right now due to size. "Okay, now what?"

"Pull on the knot." Noire murmurs. "Not too hard. You want the knot to be sliding down the thread as you do. You want the tear to be invisible once you're done. You shouldn't even be able to see the repair thread on the outside."

It takes a minute to find the right amount of force as I gradually increase the strength I'm using, but eventually I achieve what I'm supposed to.

"Now make another knot for safety, pull it tight, and cut the thread on the inside just after it." Noire murmurs. "And you're done."

And just like that, one of the holes in my shirt is mended. It took a few minutes, but honestly not nearly as long as I expected. I always thought sewing was this painfully slow process where you had to take thirty minutes to fix even the simplest of tears. This fix took maybe seven minutes, and that was mostly because I'm slow and it's literally the first time I've ever done this.

The next two holes take a shorter time to repair as Noire doesn't have to walk me through every step. Everything is fixed up rather quickly.

"Thanks Noire." I say.

"I-It's fine."

I quickly slip back into my shirt and hand Morgan back her coat. I also say "how does wearing this not hurt your shoulders?"

"Because I have muscle!" Morgan chirps. She flexes an arm and pats her shoulder. "See?"

"Yeah yeah." It's still so weird to think of Morgan having muscle. Maybe it's her soft, childish face that makes the muscles seem so out of place to me. "Brains and brawn at the same time? That has to be illegal."

"I'm already illegal in other ways." Morgan quips.

"...is that a joke about you looking underage?"

"Yes." She says unabashedly.

You have a dark sense of humor Morgan. Then again, I guess I also have that sense of humor considering how often I indulge you. "That says a lot about me then, considering you are the prize of my collection."

"I'm just going to go…" Noire whispers, and moves to the door.

"Thanks Noire!" I say, and wave at her. She nods timidly and ducks out into the hallway.

"We'll get her to join in some day!" Morgan proclaims.

"Don't count on it. Roleplay isn't for everyone." I say.

"A girl can dream!" Morgan says. "Dream about being the pampered centerpiece of a prestigious collection! Because there's nothing sketchy about that!"

"Pampered?" I ask. "I've been failing my duties in that case. I'm going to need a significant bump in income to be able to pamper anyone."

"Is this your way of asking for money?"

"No, it's my way of acknowledging I need a job." I say. "Be patient with me, treasure, I'll have your gilded cage soon."

"Will it have a golden table master?" Morgan simpers.

"Of course my dear, anything for my most prized asset." I chuckle. I go so far as doing that chin-lift thing. The one you see villains do, where they grab some woman's chin with their thumb and pointer and lift it up so that the woman is looking them in the eye. "Because you are oh so loyal to me, aren't you dear?"

"Yes Sir." Morgan says, trying to act meek. It doesn't really work because of the wide grin on her face. She's having too much fun to properly act timid. "You have all my love master!"

That sounds like something straight out of a hentai, and Morgan said it with any sort of hesitance. Her absolute shamelessness never ceases to amaze me. "You'd be a fantastic actor if you could stop yourself from smiling so much Morgan."

"I'll have to settle for just being amazing then." Morgan sighs. "Not fantastic, just amazing, how very sad."

"What a travesty." I say, and pat her on the shoulder in consolation. "We can probably solve that by bribing critics though. Then they'll say you're fantastic."

"Once again bribery solves everything!" Morgan proclaims.

"Your father is going to love all these valuable lessons I'm teaching you." I tease. "Bribery and subservience. Valuable skills for any young woman."

"Yeah!" Morgan chirps. "What's this 'honesty' stuff? Thinking for myself? Never heard of it!"

"You are safe and comfortable under the thumb of someone else, as you should be." I say with an appropriate amount of evil in my tone. I even creepily stroke her hair, just to add to the effect. "My lovely, pliable little toy…"

Morgan can't hold character and begins giggling again, and I quickly follow suit.

"I can't believe you can say some of those things with a straight face." I say, after catching my breath.

"Says the person pretending to groom me." Morgan teases. "You're normally shy, yet you don't hesitate to put your hands on me when we're acting."

"I- well-" I fidget nervously. "It's part of the act, right? So-"

"I'm not complaining, I'm just making an observation." Morgan chirps. "By all means, touch me more!"

"Phrasing Morgan."

She sticks her tongue out. "I know exactly what I'm saying. By the way, I've got a question."

"What's up?"

"Do you know what my dad is going to think of me?" Morgan asks. "Or, at least, do you know how our first talk goes?"

"Well…" I pause to think. "Your first conversation in the game usually happens at the temple where I found you, so that's already different. He also has knowledge of future children before he meets you in the game, so that's also different."

"Ah." Morgan says. "So you have no idea?"

"Not really." I admit. It feels like a loss to say there. Here I have an opportunity to help Morgan, and all I can do is shrug and say I don't know. "At the very least I can tell you that no parent in the game ever rejects their kid. Some of them are suspicious at first, but there's never any rejection. Worst come to worst, you have to wait for Lucina to reveal herself. I don't think you're in any danger of permanent rejection."

"That's something at least." Morgan sighs. "I'm just… I'm worried my story is a bit too unbelievable, and that I'm a bit of a disappointment. Selective amnesia? Really? And all I do is play board games? Not something useful?"

"I think you grossly overestimate how much is going to be expected of you, and grossly underestimate how much you already do." I say. "And where's your usual confidence?"

"Well it's my father." Morgan frets. "And mother too. I can't just be great for them, I have to be perfect."

"Morgan…" I say.

"I know it's ridiculous, but it's my parents!" Morgan says. "It's not wrong to want to present myself in my best light, right?"

"You're already amazing. It's just a matter if Robin and Olivia see it or not." I say. "Simple as that. You do enough already."

"You're biased, you're my boyfriend." Morgan huffs, though she doesn't seem to be actually annoyed.

"Well sure, but you're biased against yourself because these are your parents." I say, and poke her on the forehead. "If your father is anywhere as awesome as you think he is, this won't be an issue."

"But do you know that?"

"Well unless your idea of an awesome father includes someone who won't approve of his daughter's mere accomplishments in being a genius tactician and skilled board-game player, then you'll be fine as long as he's even remotely close to your mental image." I offer. "Besides, this is a world with magic. I'm sure some 'destiny' bullshit will ensure it goes well regardless."

Morgan cracks a smile. "That's the most reassuring thing you've said so far."

"Fuck you too." I grumble. "I'm trying to help here."

"And you did." Morgan says. "Thanks."

"Yeah yeah…"

###

"I'm sorry, wait, repeat that."

"There are forty four letters in the Ylissian alphabet." Morgan says again. "Does your alphabet not have that?"

"No. The English alphabet has twenty six."

"Only twenty six? That's not even a letter for most sounds!" Morgan says.

"Well yeah. All vowels have two sounds, and some sounds are designated by combinations of letters." I say.

"That sounds complicated."

"It… yeah, I guess. I wouldn't really know if it's complicated or not though. It's my native language, so the difficulty is a bit lost on me." I admit. "How do you remember forty four letters though? That's so many!"

"It's not! Yours just has too few!"

"Says you!"

"Says me!"

"Well you're wrong!"

"How dare you!" Morgan gasps.

"I dare!" I say, followed by. "But I'm surprised the Ylissian alphabet isn't symbol-based. From what I saw in your notebook and the smut book, it looked like symbols."

"What do you mean by symbols?"

"A different thing for each individual word, not sound."

"That would be so many." Morgan mutters.

"It exists on Earth, like Japanese and Chinese. They use one symbol for each word… I think."

"How do they come up with new words then? Do they have to just make up a new symbol?"

"I guess so?" I frown. "I have no idea honestly. I could be wrong about how the symbols work in the first place. I never looked into it. I just know that you need to know a lot of symbols to write Chinese or Japanese. I imagine Chon'sinese works like that too, if it is the Japan counterpart like it was in the game."

"Huh. Who knew?" Morgan says.

"Anyone in Chon'sin." I quip.

"Smartass."

"Hey, at least that means I'm smart." I say. Internally though, I'm dreading what forty-four letters means for me trying to learn the language. I suppose it was too much to hope that there would be a nice one-to-one translation. I'm going to have to figure out some way to write what Ylissian letter means what in English.

Fun times; and by that I mean it's going to be no fun at all.

###

Ylisse has a Risen problem. In the week we've been in this country we've come across three separate packs of Risen, and that's not counting that small farmer group as its own thing.

On the bright(?) side, I actually managed to get two kills with my crossbow in our most recent fight. I'm starting to suspect some of my accuracy problems lie with the crossbow and the bolts and not my aim, because even with a steady hand the shots are often off-center. Still, a steady hand does help the accuracy to some extent.

Adrenaline is still a bitch though. I can't get it under control.

"I have to wonder." I say, after our most recent fight is over and Nah has scouted and not spotted any reinforcements. "If Ylisse has more Risen than other countries."

"Wouldn't surprise me." Morgan muses. "After all, Risen are mostly going to be summoned by Plegia, right? So of course they'd target Ylisse and cause havoc."

"How many Risen packs are from sorcerers and how many are passively generated from Grima's power?" I question.

"Don't know, don't care." Kjelle huffs. "We'll kill them all the same."

"But are we really killing them, or are we destroying them?" Morgan jokes. "You know, because they're already dead?"

"Har-har." Kjelle huffs.

"I wonder if we could control Risen ourselves…" I muse. "Ylisse could probably benefit from free zombie soldiers."

"That's a downright heretical suggestion." Kjelle warns. "Don't let anyone else hear you say that."

Ah, I guess I should have expected that. "Let me guess. Ylisse has something against dark magic."

"Of course it does. It's evil." Kjelle scoffs, as if that should be obvious.

"Oh that bullshit." I smile. "It's a religious thing, isn't it?"

"Of course the church condemns dark mages." Kjelle says, like that should be obvious. "Dark magic and dark mages have been plagues on Ylisse as long as history can remember!"

"Mmm-hmm." I hum, feeling amused. "Suuure. Totally not because of unjustified prejudice."

"You don't know Ylisse's history." Kjelle sneers.

"I don't need to. This is extremely blatant." I say. This isn't something I will back down on. This is so obviously wrong that I'm surprised Kjelle doesn't see it. I know Kjelle is a bit of a narrow-minded idiot, but this seems so blatant I'm disappointed I have to explain it. "I shouldn't even have to explain this Kjelle, and you should know history can be horribly biased depending on who is writing it."

"Don't give me that." Kjelle says. "You're otherworldly wisdom isn't right, or wanted, Nathan."

My smile is intentionally mocking; vicious even. "So you're a discriminatory asshole by choice? Good to know. Somehow I'm not surprised."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kjelle growls.

"I'm saying you're intentionally choosing to ignore logic in favor of stubbornly, uncritically clinging to whatever garbage your religion throws your way." I say. "Stubborn and uncritical. Your two standout traits. Very fitting."

"You're making a lot of assumptions about me right now." Kjelle warns.

"Am I wrong?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "If I am, please, enlighten me. If you have some valid logical or scientific reason to believe that dark magic and dark mages are inherently evil, I'd love to hear it and will rescind my earlier comments."

"Dark mages are always nasty. Even Tharja is nasty and she's a Shepherd." Kjelle says. "And dark magic is fueled by rage and all sorts of negative emotion. You become skilled at dark magic by being a bad person."

So here's the question. Do I believe what Noire told me about dark magic, or do I believe Kjelle? I'm inclined to believe Noire just because her explanation seems more realistic and fleshed-out and-

Wait. Why are Kjelle and Noire's accounts of dark magic different? Has this topic just never come up? I want to mention this, but I also don't want to drag Noire into a conversation she might not want to have. What to do…?

"The church condemns dark magic for its corrupting influence, and for the necessity of its practitioners being evil!" Kjelle proclaims confidently. "For Naga would never wish for such a vile method of power to exist!"

Does she actually think Naga is a goddess? I guess she either didn't listen or didn't care that I've mentioned Naga is not a goddess on multiple occasions. I also wouldn't have pegged Kjelle to be a zealot. Who knew?

I also make the decision to go with Noire's explanation of dark magic, mostly because it's more fleshed-out. If something so complex is being presented in such simple, black-and-white terms, that's usually a sign the person in question doesn't actually know anything about what they're talking about and are just repeating what they've heard.

Sometimes, not always. I also can't blame Kjelle too much because it's probably hard to do research in this world, and even more so in the ruined future.

"You do know dark magic is just based on emotion, not necessarily negative emotion, right…?" I ask slowly.

"Well, negative emotion is the primary emotion." Kjelle says defensively.

"Fair enough." I conceded. "But you know negative emotion isn't bad right?"

"Don't be ridiculous." She scoffs. "Of course it is."

"So anger is bad?"

"Of course."

"So when you get angry over your friend getting hurt, you're a bad person." I say. "Right?"

"Well no."

"But anger is bad."

"Yes."

"So anger is bad, but being angry isn't bad?"

"Hold on a second." Kjelle interrupts. "You're ignoring context."

"Do tell."

"Using anger to fuel a spell is bad."

"Why?"

"Because anger is bad." Kjelle says, exasperated.

"But is being angry bad?" I question. "This is important."

"Being angry to fuel a spell is bad, but in other cases it's fine." Kjelle clarifies.

"Okay." I say. "So, following that logic, it's fine for me to use my anger to justify beating my wife then, right? After all, it's only using anger to fuel a spell that's bad."

"Of course not! That's bad too!" Kjelle barks. "Are you a fool?"

"I'm speaking in theoretics here Kjelle." I soothe. "Just to make sure all your points are properly articulated. So, let me ask: what exactly makes a use of anger bad or evil?"

"When it is used to fuel an inherently evil thing, like dark magic."

"And what makes dark magic inherently evil?"

"Because it takes anger and negative emotion as fuel."

"See, that's circular logic." I point out. "You're using a thing to justify itself. Dark magic is bad because it uses anger, and anger is bad when used to fuel dark magic. There's no reason for this beyond something arbitrary you've chosen to say. Your premises are your conclusions. So maybe this will help. What makes something bad?"

"That's a stupid quesition." Kjelle sneers. "How can you possibly expect me to cover everything?"

"I don't need examples, I need rules. What exactly makes something bad or evil?" I press. I'm going straight into philosophical debate here. Gotta use my degree for something, might as well be for this.

"Something is evil when it has negative effects." Kjelle says.

"Okay." I say. I could dig deeper and question what a negative effect is, but that's unnecessary for the current debate. "So something is evil when it has negative effects. Like spousal abuse, or assassination, or anything awful like that.

"Exactly."

"So, would you agree with the statement that anger is evil when it is used to create or fuel negative effects? Anger used as justification to terrorize one's kids, for example."

"Absolutely." Kjelle nods.

"What about when anger is used for self improvement?" I ask. "When I am angry at myself for failure, and I use that to push myself to improve. Is that evil?"

"No."

"Okay then, so for spells…" I say slowly. "If I power a spell with anger, and use it to destroy a village, that's evil."

"Clearly."

"What if I use anger to power a dark magic spell to destroy an oncoming boulder that would crush a house?" I ask. "Same spell, same emotion, different ends."

"I- no." Kjelle frowns. "That doesn't make sense."

"Doesn't it? I'm using your premises Kjelle." I say. "Something is evil only when it has negative effects. Therefore, at best, dark magic is usually evil but is not always, as there are non-evil uses for it. Strictly speaking, we should be saying that certain motives are evil, as it is motives that drive actions that cause results, and dark magic is only a tool to achieve that end."

"You're twisting my words." Kjelle accuses. "You're trying to trick me."

"I am not." I say. "I simply investigated your own ideas and came to a logical conclusion, and you agreed with every step."

Kjelle's glare could boil water. I think she's mad that I'm right. It probably doesn't help that I'm being smug about it.

"Look, I'm not saying you have to like dark magic, and it does seem like it could easily lead to negative behaviour." I offer. "Just don't judge an entire group of people by the tools they use. That would be like disliking anyone who used a shovel because the church told you shovels were bad."

"Fine." Kjelle snaps. "Just shut up. I don't want to hear your voice anymore."

Ouch, but okay. At least my point is made. Religious bullshit made things harder than it should have been. Though I'm admittedly predisposed to dislike religion. There are so many problems with it I don't even want to start… or, well, I do want to start, but I won't. This isn't the place or time for a rant.

It's also weird to win. I never won arguments back on Earth. I'll relish this for now, I don't expect it to happen often.

###

"Are those pegasus knights?" I mutter. "Those are pegasus knights, right?"

"Yes." Noire murmurs.

"Surprised we haven't come across them before." Kjelle says. "They're Ylisse's main federal force. At least in our time, it was mainly their responsibility to deal with Risen packs because they could actually reach them in time."

"I guess the knights and cavaliers were the secondary force for that because they're also fast?" I say.

"It doesn't exactly work that way." Kjelle says. "Did your games not tell you about Ylisse's military structure?"

"Nope. I only know that Ylisse was known for pegasus knights."

"Well, let me explain." Kjelle says with a smug smile. I think she's using this as payback for me making a fool of her yesterday. Whatever. As long as I get the information. "So, you know about duchies, right?"

"Large areas of land ruled by dukes."

"Exactly." Kjelle says. "So Ylisse is divided up into a bunch of duchies. The duchy of Themis or Admetus for example. The royal family also controls a duchy in addition to more general control over the country."

"All right." I nod. "I get it so far."

"Every duke has their own army." Kjelle continues. "Depending on the duke, the composition can differ. Themis is famous for it's valkyries, for example, and Admetus is the only duchy in Ylisse to train axemasters. Most duchies forgo axes altogether."

I wonder if "axemaster" means warrior or berserker in game terms. "Okay…"

"However, each duke is also expected to contribute a certain number of troops towards Ylisse as a whole." Kjelle says. "Troops for the country to use rather than just the dukes, so to speak. It would be unfair to put the whole burden on the royal family, though due to occupying the most heavily populated area of Ylisse the royal family does contribute more troops to the realm than other areas."

"Where do those troops go?"

"They stay with the duke for the most part." Kjelle says. "The dukes are still responsible for feeding and housing the troops they contribute, and under most circumstances they can use those troops as normal troops because Ylisse does not usually have reason to call upon those troops. It's only when there is a significant problem elsewhere that the troops a duke ows Ylisse will actually be called upon by the country."

"So these troops that are owed to Ylisse technically answer to the country before the duke, but since Ylisse doesn't often give orders they mostly just act as part of the duke's standing force?"

"Exactly." Kjelle says.

"So what does this have to do with pegasus knights?"

"Pegasus knights are unique in that Ylisse's pegasus core technically serves Ylisse, not any specific duke nor even the royal family. A duke can have their own pegasus knights that they trained themselves, but the main pegasus core are Ylisse's troops alone. That's why most of the troops a duke owe's Ylisse don't need to be called upon, because when there's a problem that the country needs to address it's the pegasus knights that are sent first, and only if they can't deal with the problem are the rest of Ylisse's troops called upon."

So pegasus knights are strictly federal troops unless a duke has invested into training his own. Interesting. It seems unusual to me to know that each individual duchy, basically a province or state, has its own standing army rather than all troops being federal, but whatever. This is a different time period. "Aren't Risen more than just Ylisse's problem though?"

"Of course." Kjelle snorts. "But unlike the dukes, who might have other problems, Risen are a clear threat to the country as a whole, ergo the pegasus knights would deal with them specifically."

Interesting. Pegasus knights seem like a good choice for federal troops too. They have the mobility to get all around the country like no other type of troop, especially because I doubt Ylisse has as much of any other type of flier. Wyverns are Plegia's thing, and griffons are just downright rare in the whole game from what I remember seeing.

The pegasus knights are a fair ways off, but are moving in our direction. They're actually sort of hard to spot with the pegasi's white wings against the white and blue sky. If it weren't for the flaps of their wings they'd be indistinguishable from clouds from a distance.

We travel for about twenty minutes, watching the pegasus knights get closer and closer. I couldn't pinpoint how many of them there were before, but now that they're closer I can see there is a squad of about a dozen knights, all spread out over a wide area. Sometimes one knight will do a low, sweeping pass of the farmland around them. I'd bet they're looking for something.

And something they find, judging by how they all congregate in the same spot and then make a coordinated dive towards something obscured by a barn. Our group is a dozen minutes away at marching speed, so we all pick up our pace and draw our weapons. Apparently our decision to help is unanimous.

We don't hesitate to jump the farmer's fence and dash towards the other side of the barn. Maybe we scare a few cows, but whatever. Not a big deal.

I also underestimated how nimble Kjelle is in her armor. She climbs over that fence just as fast as the rest of us.

To my surprise, the fight isn't over by the time we get over to where the pegasus knights are, and that's because there's a lot of Risen. I stop counting after twenty, and that's not even half of them… and that's not counting the ones the pegasus knights have probably killed already.

I'm glad we didn't run into this group on our own. We might have been able to deal with twenty Risen, but fifty plus would be a bit too much. These look like a combination of brigands, farmers, and soldiers. I wonder if they used to be a bunch of smaller groups that found each other and became one big group.

Or maybe one group called for reinforcements, the others came running, and they killed their attackers and stuck together. That's a morbid consideration.

Nah transforms and we rush to fight. The pegasus knights all startle at the sudden appearance of a goddamned dragon, but recover from their shock quickly and resume their work.

There are so many Risen that my shots basically can't miss. All I have to do is be sure to aim low so my shots don't go high and accidentally hit a pegasus knight.

I think the pegasus knights have already dealt with the chieftain, hence why our group which is on the ground while all the pegasus knights are in the air isn't instantly mobbed by all the remaining Risen. There are a bunch of Risen futility trying to swipe at the diving knights to predictably little effect.

Kjelle wades into the middle of the Risen without any sort of fear. Her armor blocks axes and spears and pitchforks alike without much of an issue. I remember learning that full plate armor was a total wall to basic melee attacks, though with the help of a horse for momentum or a pickaxe or hammer you could probably deal serious damage to full plate. Also, arrows punch right through it for the most part. The power behind arrows is not insignificant.

So anyhow, against these simple melee attacks Kjelle's armor walls all damage.

For the most part I'm not aiming my shots. I don't need to. The combined force of the pegasus knights and our squad, mostly Nah and Morgan courtesy of her magic, chew through the Risen numbers rapidly. Risen really are trivial to deal with even in such large numbers. These would be more threatening if they were bandits or something.

I say that like they wouldn't totally annihilate us if they had any semblance of tactics. This is only working because they're running around incoherently and randomly switching targets.

It still takes a good ten minutes to deal with the rest of the Risen. After there are too few for us to safely keep shooting, me, Morgan, and Noire step back and let the pegasus knights and Kjelle handle the rest.

So, pegasus knights look almost exactly like they do in the game, though with grieves on their lower legs and armored skirts to protect their thighs rather than having bare thighs or just stockings like in the games. Though, oddly enough… so you know female Corrin's outfit and how it has the thighs exposed only on the inside of the legs? Yeah, the pegasus knights have that for some reason. I wonder if there's actually logic around that. They also don't have full saddles, they just have the main seat part and not the flaps on the side, so their thighs are actually in contact with the fur which seems supremely uncomfortable and unsafe. That has to chafe like hell, right? There must be a reason for it.

It's not exactly something I can ask the pegasus knights about though. We all know how that would go. I'll just wait and ask Morgan or Kjelle or something… or maybe Cynthia, because she's actually a pegasus knight. Though I suppose Sumia or Cordelia could answer that question too.

The pegasus knights swiftly gather up the leftovers of the Risen (the clothes, weapons, personal belongings and whatnot) and haul them out of the farmland to the side of the road. I can see a few pegasus knights taking out shovels too. A burial, albeit without bodies. While some of the knights are doing that, another of them, the leader I assume by the gold colored armor whereas the others have silver, approaches us.

"Thank you for the assistance, travellers." The woman says, in what I think is a Russian accent. The only character I know in the game that has an accent like that is Gregor. I wonder if that has any significance. All the villagers in Ylisse so far sure don't speak like that. She's almost as tall as me, has slightly tanned skin, long dark-green hair, and hazel eyes. "There are not many people willing to put themselves in danger to help soldiers."

"Because that's your job." Morgan quips. "It was no problem! Happy to help! We've been dealing with Risen packs ever since we got off the boat two weeks ago, and it seems like the situation is a bit out of control. If we can cut their numbers a bit, we'll eagerly take part."

"How many packs have you run into?" The woman asks. "I am supposed to keep track as best I can."

"We've dealt with five packs of varying sizes." Morgan says. "Twenty four, seven, ten, sixteen, and fourteen."

"Hmm…" The woman frowns. "Thank you for the information. Additionally, I must ask… are you a dark mage?"

Huh, I didn't think that was going to be asked outright. Apparently so.

"Nope." Morgan chirps. "I'm just a normal mage."

"Ah, I see." She says. "Do be careful then. You are obviously Plegian, and most Ylissians are not quite fond of Plegians at the moment with the war only recently finished. The wounds are too fresh, sometimes literally."

"You aren't Ylissian either, are you?" Morgan asks. "You speak differently, and you didn't say 'my countrymen' you said 'Ylissians'."

"Very astute of you." The woman says, and nods. "I am Ylissian now, but not as a child. I arrived here when I was five." She puts a finger to her lips with a smile. "My mother is a dark mage, don't tell. That's why I asked. I know the problems that can come of it."

"My, giving away sensitive information to a stranger?" Morgan smiles. "Be careful."

"You are travellers; it is unlikely we will meet again, and it is no secret among my squad." She chuckles. "I am Vanna."

"Morgan." Morgan says. "My group is heading for Ylisstol. We have business with the Shepherds."

"Are you hopefuls? It's a high bar." Vanna warns.

"Not exactly." Morgan grins. "But I wouldn't doubt we could jump that bar if we wanted."

"Well, at least you have the confidence for it." Vanna laughs. "And if you're going to Ylisstol perhaps we will meet again. Incidentally, is one of your number a manakete? I distinctly remember a dragon."

"That's me." Nah says, and inclines her head to Vanna. "I'm Nah."

"Greetings Nah." Vanna says, and actually bows from the waist. "Ylisse is always glad to see another divine dragon. A sign of good fortune no doubt."

"I am not so special." Nah says. "But I shall endeavor to bring Ylisse good fortune nonetheless."

How very formal-sounding of you Nah.

"Captain." A different pegasus knight interrupts. "The burial is complete."

"Thank you Lily. Have everyone mount up." Vanna instructs. To us, she says. "We must be off. Thank you again travellers. If you want some compensation, I'll be including you in my report to headquarters back in Ylisstol, so you can go there and request it."

"That won't be necessary." Morgan says. "But thanks."

We watch Vanna mount her pegasus. At a sharp command from her, the entire group of knights start a light trot, flares their wings in unison, and take to the air. It almost looks like a choreographed move, and maybe it is. That's another question for later I suppose.

As soon as they're gone, Morgan turns to me with a cheeky grin. "Did you see the thighs on her? Nice and toned."

"Of course that's the first thing you'd say." I sigh. "I thought I was supposed to be the one sarcastically degrading women."

"Pfft, I can do that on my own!" Morgan says cheerfully. "And who said anything about sarcasm? Those are some nice legs! Also, degrading? That was a compliment!"

"Calm your hormones Sylvain." I snort, and pat her on the head. "You might want to wait until we're in Ylisstol until you devolve into bad pickup lines and failed dates. That way you can maximize your chances of offending someone important."

"You know, for a moment there I thought you were going to dissuade me from being lewd, but that sounds like encouragement to me!" Morgan says. "Is this your way of giving me permission to mess with people when we get to Ylisstol!?"

"I'm pretty sure you were going to do that anyway."

"You know me so well!"

"At least make sure to steal something when you inevitably offend someone rich." I say. "Might as well make sure their offense is justified, right?"

Morgan barks out a sudden laugh. "Now that's a good plan!"

"You two are horrible." Kjelle says flatly. "Can we move on already?"

"But I'm not done figuring out how I'm going to single-handedly steal the money of every rich man and woman in Ylisstol!" Morgan pouts.

"That's a lot of dates."

"I know! Think of all the great food I can sucker people into buying me!" Morgan says. "This is a great plan!"

"Please don't make enemies." Noire mumbles.

"She will." I say flatly. "That was going to happen no matter what, it was just a matter of how."

"Oh gods."

Morgan throws an arm around Noire's shoulders. "You can join me! Between my cute face and your nice everything we can swindle all of Ylisstol! Nah can join in too; we can have a whole act going!"

Nah looks supremely unimpressed. "Leave me out of this childish nonsense."

"I-I think I'll pass." Noire says.

"Your loss. I'll have all the fun!" Morgan says cheerfully.

"How quickly I'm abandoned when you get prospects of money." I sigh dramatically. "Alas, you are a golddigger to the end."

"Aww, I'll always have a place in my heart for you." Morgan coos. "But you can't blame a girl for wanting some more attention can you? What's a few other dates on the side?"

"You're horrible Morgan." I say, and pat her head again. "And by that I mean go right ahead. Don't get yourself into too much trouble though."

I say that as a joke, but I'm quite serious. As much as I like Morgan, I wouldn't deny her the chance to date other people, either just for fun or as a serious search for someone else. I got my current relationship with her on virtue of her not really interacting with many other people beforehand.

Or maybe I've overthinking things. Either way, I'll let Morgan interpret that as she wants.

###

"Everyone's watching though your eyes~" I sing quietly. "There's only two options: win or die~"

I'd forgotten about the songs from League of Legends. They don't have many, but they're hella good. I couldn't tell you what reminded me of them today. Sometimes a song just slips back into my mind I guess.

"You better not be singing that for much longer Nathan." Kjelle grumbles. "I plan on actually getting sleep tonight."

It really is an inconvenient time to remember these songs exist, but I can't not sing them. This is the only way I'll be able to hear these songs. I have to keep singing, even if it's an annoyance. Repetition is how you remember things after all. I won't risk forgetting these songs.

I do wonder, though, if I should be clinging so tightly to these things from Earth. Am I simply refusing to move on, or is it justified for me to obsess over songs from Earth? Especially considering how many songs I'm trying to keep in my head, this could be unhealthy for me.

But I don't want to move on. I happen to like Earth and many of the things in it. At the same time, I can't really expect to live like this forever, constantly trying to juggle a hundred songs in my head so that I don't forget them.

I guess I haven't accepted my situation. I'm still clinging to hope that somehow things won't be too different, and that I can afford to remember all these songs. I'm going to have to face facts eventually, but it won't be tonight.

###

"I think it must be the crossbow itself." I say as I retrieve any surviving bolts from the tree. "It's just too crude. It's probably uneven somewhere, using the wrong type of wood, or something of the sort."

"So what I'm hearing is that you need better tools next time." Morgan says. She's sitting on a rock, watching my practice.

"I think it's more that I'll need measuring instruments to make sure everything is symmetrical and smooth. I need to make sure the strings are tied in the exact same spots and not slightly forward or backward on one side, and I have to be sure that the bow isn't just a bit larger on one side or something. There's so many small things that could be wrong. I need something to measure distance and something to measure angles. A ruler and a protractor."

"Hmm…" Morgan hums. "Reinventing something is difficult. Who knew?"

"I know, I know." I grumble. "It would be convenient if I was an engineer. That would make this whole process a lot easier. I'd actually know what I have to do instead of wildly guessing."

"Well sure, but at least you have an idea what you're doing."

"I guess…" I say. "For all I know you're actually right and I need better tools."

"Do you always second-guess yourself like this?" Morgan asks suddenly. "Never being sure about anything?"

"Of course." I nod. "I'm not foolish enough to assume I can say anything for certain, especially about things of which I don't have professional knowledge. Saying anything 'for certain' would be dishonest of me."

"I guess I understand." Morgan says. "But that seems…"

"Annoying?"

"I was trying to say that in a more polite way." Morgan admits. "But yes."

"Well long story short. I want any uncertainty to be acknowledged because even point-one percent chances might be important, and I don't like lying and pretending those chances don't exist, even if it's for the sake of morale or whatever." I say.

"So it's a truth thing."

"Yes."

"Okay." Morgan shrugs. "I was just curious if there was a reason behind all your second-guessing."

"I've had too many experiences where a lack of thinking things over leads to something going wrong." I say. "Better to second guess all the time than be reckless. You're more likely to succeed at something if you're overprepared, not underprepared."

"Hmm…" Morgan hums. "Well that's fair enough I suppose."

"Yeah, but it leads to problems on it's own. Half the reason I can't talk to strangers is because I'm always second-guessing how they'll react, even though I have no reasonable way to be able to predict that and shouldn't be worrying about it in the first place." I grumble, and then I promptly sigh. "And here I am, going on about my own problems again."

"You do seem to have a lot of them." Morgan chirps. "I'm still happy to listen."

"Yeah I know, but I don't want all my time with you to be me whining about petty things." I say. "So… uh…"

"Change of subject?"

"Yes please."

"Hmm…" Morgan muses. "You were a writer, right?"

"To a degree, yes."

"Tell me about something you wrote!"

"Oh." I blink. "You know, I was expecting a more general conversation topic, but this works."

"Hey, I have less than a year of life experience. I'm living vicariously through whatever you tell me." Morgan says. "I have very little I could actually talk about."

Well okay then. I better choose a good story. Let's see… "Well, most of my stories are what you'd call fanfiction. They use the ideas, characters, and settings of someone else, though usually not for monetary gain because that would be sketchy. So, remember those other Fire Emblem universes?"

"Yeah."

"Well I wrote a story about this teacher called Byleth, and he likes to break into students' rooms..."

###

It occurs to me I've been waiting until we get to Ylisstol to try and do some things like learn to write, or just get new skills of any sort, and while that's not totally unreasonable as we will be in one place for a somewhat extended period of time and that's a good opportunity to get some learning done, there are a few things I could be doing now… like getting those measuring tools. A ruler is something I can ask someone to make. It's literally just a piece of wood with marks at regular intervals. I could make my own using my finger to space the notches, but I'd rather have the notches cut in some actual existing form of measurement. I also want a protractor, but I have no idea if those exist yet.

It's a weird request, judging by the town woodworker's raised eyebrow. He informs me he can make the ruler, but a goniometer (not a protractor, but something that fulfills a similar function) is something I'm probably going to have to find a skilled blacksmith about. He can make me a fifty centimeter ruler in half an hour though. It's really simple.

Yes, they're called centimeters. Go figure. The calendar changes and the language changes, but they still use centimeters.

I hand him two copper for the ruler (that seems like so little, I got charged fifty copper for a whetstone but a ruler is two? Weird) and go off to find a blacksmith while I wait for it to be done. The woodworker said the blacksmith could do it. I don't know why he can't do it, but whatever. Maybe he just wants to spread business around the whole town and help everyone out. I can imagine that. The woodworker was really nice after all. He didn't raise an eyebrow at my stuttering. I can imagine him sharing business.

Incidentally, Morgan is off doing… something. I don't actually know. I told her I was going to buy some things alone today, and so I am. She pouted about it. It was cute. But I need to actually talk to strangers, no matter how much I hate doing it. If I hadn't insisted she not come, she'd absolutely be following me around right now.

I've underestimated just how attached Morgan is to me… and vice versa. I'm constantly thinking of something to say, starting to say it, then remembering Morgan isn't next to me. Even now when Morgan isn't here, I'm still thinking about her.

"Now I know why young couples are always so clingy." I think to myself as I try and find the blacksmith. "Being in a relationship is downright addictive."

Focus Nathan. Blacksmith.

Because I have a terrible sense of direction I have to ask where the blacksmith is, even though the woodworker already told me. It takes me about five minutes to get there in total. Not too bad.

"I could use a watch." I think to myself as I stand outside the blacksmith's forge, gathering my courage. "Those are going to be expensive though, assuming they even exist."

Are the 1500s medieval ages? I think that's when the first watches were made. I don't know exactly how watches work, but I know some of them use coiled wires to intermittently release energy into the watch to make it function, hence why some old watches needed to be wound. I wonder if Miriel could make a functional watch with just that information.

With nothing else to distract myself with, I resign myself to actually entering the blacksmith's shop… and promptly learn that I should have been talking about the blacksmiths' shop, not the blacksmith's.

It's the placement of the apostrophe denoting possession. If you move it after the s, it indicated plural possession.

I'm saying there are two blacksmiths. One man, and one woman. The man is significantly older than the woman with long, unkempt, white hair that is blackened with soot, deep brown eyes, a furrowed unibrow, and a body so jacked and well-defined he could pass as a sculpture if you slapped some paint on him. He's also shirtless. The woman looks… young? I think? It's hard to tell with the soot on her face and much more conservative dress, but the pitch of her voice makes me think she's not even over eighteen yet. She has chestnut hair and similar eyes. She also clearly must have a lot of muscle, judging by how she's carrying a huge metal cauldron without too much effort when I walk through the door.

"I meant the crucible!" The old man barks. "Not the cauldon!"

"Then just say "crucible" next time instead of "big pot" Grandpa! I know what a crucible is!" The girl retorts with equal attitude, and plants the cauldron on the floor with a heavy thudding noise. "And the crucible isn't even that big!"

"It's big enough!" The old man says defensively.

"I can carry the crucible in one hand Grandpa! That's not big!"

I have a feeling that if I let them keep talking they'll go on forever. I just need to interrupt them. "Erm… pardon me."

"What?" They both ask at the same time, turning their heads towards me. I instinctively flinch at the sharp voices, but stop short of cowering.

"I'm a customer. They're not angry." I remind myself. "I- hello. I'm Nathan." Well that's irrelevant information. Get to the point Nathan. "I wanted to ask if you were capable of making a goniometer."

"Oh, another one o' those things, huh?" The old man says. "Do you know a crazy mage lady with glasses?"

What? That sounds like Miriel. What are the odds? "Crazy mage lady is a pretty broad definition. Can you give me a name?"

"Mura… Mural?" The old man says. "Lily, was it Mural?"

"Miriel, Grandpa. Not Mural."

"Ah, Miriel, right, I knew that!"

"Sure you did…" The girl, Lily, scoffs. "Memory is the first to go they say."

"Really? I thought it was beauty. Speaking of, shouldn't you be worried 'bout getting a man before yours is gone rather than makin' snarky comments?" The old man shoots back.

"You can't use that retort for everything Grandpa!"

"I can and I will as long as it keeps workin'!" He says with a grin.

"So." I cut in. "You can make a goniometer?"

"O' course we can!" The old man huffs. "Do we look like amateurs to you?"

"Considering how often you get off topic and forget names, it wouldn't surprise me." Lily quips.

"You're just as guilty!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"So how long would it take to get one made?" I ask, cutting in again. These two cannot stay focused. How do they ever get work done? Also, I don't even want to consider how infinitesimally small the chances are of me asking for the same device from the same people that Miriel did at some point. I basically just won the lottery… for something that I could have had someone make in Ylisstol less than a month down the road if I wanted. What a waste of lottery odds.

"A day!" The old man says.

"Grandpa, we can't just drop everything else to make this thing." Lily scolds.

"I'll pay extra to have the process expedited." I offer. "If you're capable of having it ready by tomorrow…"

"Done!" The old man says, and extends a hand for a shake.

"Grandpa!"

"What? I'm not about to turn down good money!" He huffs. "We can do that no problem, we made the molds last time for Mural, it'll be faster this time around!"

"Miriel." I correct quietly, and shake his hand. "How much do you want, by the way?"

"Lettin' me set the price? Generous of you boy." The man chuckles. "You ain't used to haggling, are you?"

"No." I admit.

"Honest to a fault too." Lily sighs. "You've gotten ripped off in the past. I can tell just by listening to you."

Ouch. Probably true, but ouch.

"Don't go insulting customers fool girl!" The old man barks. To me he says. "So, a price. Normally I'd charge a silver for somethin' specialized like this, but if you want it speedy… One and twenty copper, to make up for the delays on other orders. Fair enough?"

That's so much cheaper than I was expecting. I was worried a precision instrument like this would cost gold, not less than two silver. I'll have to thank Miriel for laying the groundwork. This probably would have cost much more if they had to make molds and all that as well.

Lily gives the old man a pointed look. "Grandpa, we just pointed out he doesn't know how to haggle."

"Fine, fine, One and fifteen." He huffs.

"Grandpa."

"One and ten! Fine! That's as low as I'm going! Happy?" He shouts.

That's so cheap. Then again, my sense of money is a bit skewed by Morgan being able to frivolously spend gold when a normal farmer would be lucky to own a single gold piece once in his entire life. It's only now that I'm really starting to understand how filthy rich Morgan actually is compared to the average person if a mere ten copper is a significant difference to these people. "One and ten works just fine. How fast are we talking? Tomorrow morning?"

"We can have it ready by nightfall." The old man scoffs. "Sun's not even at midpoint kid! Making a tool like this ain't like makin' a sword where ya need to fold the metal an' file down the edge. Yer tool just gotta be the right shape an' have some numbers on it. Easily done."

"It's tedious, not hard." Lily agrees. She's currently digging through some shelves and cabinets. "It's literally just a small slab and rod of metal with a pin connecting them. That's dirt simple. The longest part will be getting the numbers on it. Making the actual device is no problem since we have the mold and the thingy doesn't have to have anything special done to it metal-wise to make the process take longer."

"Come back at sundown! We'll have it ready for ya." The man says.

"Okay." I say. I dig into my pouch and pull out the silver and ten copper. "Here you go then."

"Thank you kindly kid." The old man says. "Lily! Find that mold!"

"I already found it Grandpa, pay attention!"

"Stop given' me sass little girl! I'm your mentor!"

"You have to be wise to be a mentor! You're just old!"

I leave the two to bicker. Hopefully they'll actually get the goniometer done. In the meantime, I'll pick up my ruler.

###

Morgan is gone when I get back to the inn. Kjelle is out somewhere too, but Noire is there. So I'm left in the awkward position of either twiddling around in my room doing basically nothing (I guess I could make some more crossbow bolts or something), or I could take advantage of this situation as an excuse to talk with Noire.

Noire is… a friend? I think? She doesn't avoid me anymore, so that's something. Still, it's a bit awkward for either of us to initiate conversation, so this low-stakes opportunity with no one else to see our blunders is the perfect opportunity to try and… I dunno. Become closer? Not be as hesitant around each other? Become better friends? Something like that.

That's why after I asked Noire where Morgan went, and she said "shopping", I don't close the door to her room and leave. I stand nervously in the doorframe, trying to think of something to say to start a conversation. This isn't like with Morgan where I can say literally anything, a total non-sequitur, and she'll roll with it.

Noire obviously notices that I haven't left, because how could she not, and she's stopped her sewing and nervously meets my eye. She doesn't say anything, but she's silently asking why I'm still here. After a few more seconds of awkward silence, her shoulders start to hunch and I cringe. I have to say something. Just spit something out Nathan.

"Sorry." I say impulsively. I guess I'm back to random apologies. Great job Nathan. "I just… I wanted to talk, and couldn't think of anything to say."

"Oh." Noire says quietly. "I'm not good at that either."

There's another awkward silence, and I really do debate leaving at this point. Clearly I have nothing to say. "I… uh…"

"D-Do you know about my future?" Noire asks suddenly, and puts down her sewing needle altogether. I guess she doesn't mind me here. That's a relief.

I step in the room and close the door, and take a seat across the room from her. "I know some possible outcomes, yes. Nothing too detailed though."

"Do you know I will interact with children?"

That's an oddly specific question, and just an odd question, and one I unfortunately can't help with. "No. None of your possible endings really go into that. The closest one is your unpaired ending where you stay with your mother for a while with the implication that it might be to protect your infant self."

"Okay." Noire says. Her tone is unusually meek, even for her. It's barely a whisper. In a rare moment of actually being able to read body language, I notice her fists clench and unclench around her needles. Anger? Or anxiety? I don't think I've done anything wrong yet, so let's go with anxiety.

"What's up?" I ask. "I mean, you don't have to go into detail if it's personal, not my place to intrude, but if you're looking for someone to talk to… well… I have enough miscellaneous knowledge stored in my brain that I might be able to offer something of use, or failing that I can at least offer a sympathetic ear."

Noire silently considers my offer. I'm fully expecting her to decline here. It's not like I've shown myself to be particularly smart or impressive, but I can't just ignore something that's bothering her. She went out of her way to comfort me not that long ago. I have a duty to return the favor if I can. Also… I still care about her, even if I don't really know her. I learned about her mostly from Awakening, granted, but just because my knowledge is skewed doesn't mean I can't have empathy or sympathy.

It's to my surprise when Noire actually speaks her mind rather than shutting me out.

"You know how my mother was in the future." Noire says quietly. "Right?"

"Yeah." I nod. Future Tharja was an abusive bitch. What does this have to do with Noire dealing with children though?

"I… the reason I asked my question…" Noire wrings her hands. "W-Will I turn out like Mother?"

Oh. Well that's a complicated question, and not an insignificant worry. I could give her generic reassurance and say that of course she won't, but anyone can give generic reassurance. If I want to be even vaguely helpful, I need to do something else. "That's up to you Noire. Your actions will decide that."

"I know that." Noire says in frustration. "B-But what if it doesn't matter what I do? What if I'm destined to turn out like her?"

"Well destiny in this world has been thwarted before." I say slowly, but we both know that's not the main issue. "However… hmm… if we want to talk psychology of some sort, I can offer you this: you learned from Tharja. This is not something you can change. Whether you like it or not, she is responsible for shaping who you are today."

Noire's eyes fall to the floor and her shoulders hunch, but I'm not quite done.

"I won't lie and pretend it's not an inconvenience." I say. "You have learned behaviours from her if she's been your caretaker for an extended period of time, and people do tend to take after their parents."

Noire still hasn't looked up. I need to get to the point.

"And changing your ways is difficult. It takes immense force of will, and constant repetition to develop new habits." I say. "However, it is absolutely possible. If we were all carbon copies of our parents the world would never change, and the world obviously does change, so that's not true at all."

Noire finally does look up, though I can't read her expression. Is that hope? Anxiety? Confusion?

"It's entirely possible you will take after your Mother in terms of parenting instincts." I whisper. That's an ugly fact, but it's true. We do take after our parents for better or for worse. "But enough willpower and self-reflection can change that."

At this point I reach forward and poke her nose, smiling, and she blinks and sits up straight in surprise.

"And need I remind you that you survived a hellscape for years on end. If there's one thing you have in spades it's willpower, whether you recognize it or not. If you're going to have kids at some point, that also means you'll have a partner, and you'll have them for help too." I say. "So, at this point I can safely say that you'll be fine, as much of a stock reassurance as that is. Maybe it will take some effort, but as long as you're willing to put in the effort when something is going wrong, there's no reason for you to end up like your mother."

That was either the most profound or most pretentious thing I've ever said. It depends on whether Noire cares for what I've said or not. My advice was still pretty generic, I just tried to acknowledge some of the negative aspects of her situation rather than glossing over it.

"So, uh, yeah…" I finish lamely. "Hope that helps."

Noire is staring at me now. Is that a good thing? Is that a bad thing? Have I made an ass of myself? I totally have, haven't I? Shit.

"That…" Noire says quietly. Her voice is hoarse. "Thank you."

I think that's a positive reaction? "Sorry if that's not what you were looking for."

"No, it helps." Noire whispers. "It's nice to have something more than reassurances to work with."

Oh good. My additional ideas were helpful. Yay.

"But can we talk about something else now?" Noire asks. "I want to think about that on my own time. Later."

"Sure." I say as gently as I can. "So, what was it you were sewing?"

"I'm actually knitting." She murmurs, and holds up the small piece of fabric. "W-We're going into warmer territory, so I plan on getting new clothes, and I'm making this shawl to go overtop of it."

"Just started?"

"Y-Yes."

"I presume you've done this before?"

"Many times." She nods. "No one else in our group really knew how to sew or knit, so I did all the repairs and would make new clothes out of fabric we found."

"Oh cool. What did you make."

"Well…"

We spend most of the afternoon talking about quietly talking about small things. Noire talks about all the things she's made and repaired, and I tell her what I know about how clothing has changed in modern times. I never in my life thought I would spend any length of time doing this, but it's a surprisingly pleasant way to spend the afternoon.

Morgan eventually comes back around dinner and complains that I'm having fun without her. I pick up my goniometer after dinner, and I think I can safely call this a productive day.

We're also less than a week away from Ylisstol. I'm trying not to think about it.

Chapter Text

I don't exactly know what happened, but Morgan has suddenly become very intent on explaining things to me. Maybe our talk a few days ago where she said she "was living vicariously through me" sparked something in her? Either way, I'm suddenly getting a crash course in the value of things, and I'm doing terribly.

"So, wait, wood objects are worth more than metal ones?" I ask. "I thought metal was more expensive."

"No, detailed wooden objects are worth more than metal objects. It's the labour cost." Morgan explains. "And detailed metal objects are worth more than detailed wooden ones, unless they're luxury items in which case they're both absurdly expensive."

"How much is "absurdly expensive"?"

"If it's more than, like, five silver, it's probably a luxury item." Morgan says. "Unless the materials for the object are super rare or something."

"So that time we spent a gold or two on a restaurant-"

"Extremely wasteful." Morgan chirps, showing no shame at all. "You could probably buy a set or two of full plate steel armor for that. But it was fun, right?"

"Yeah, it was." I say. "And steel is a lot more costly than iron, right?"

"Yep."

"Got it." There's no way I'm going to remember all this, but hopefully I retain something. "Er… what brought this on exactly?"

"I was doing Morgan things-"

I roll my eyes. "Oh yes, Morgan things. Why didn't I think of that?"

Morgan continues as if I didn't speak. "-and it occurred to me that I was being a bad girlfriend-"

"You weren't."

"Shush! You asked, so let me finish." Morgan pouts. "So I-"

"What are Morgan things?" I interrupt, smirking.

She pouts at me. "Nathaaan."

"Sorry, sorry. Go on."

"So I was being a bad girlfriend because there were some things I could teach you pretty easily, and I wasn't doing that even though I could." Morgan says.

"Morgan… that's more my fault than yours. I've been pretty lazy."

"No you haven't."

"Morgan, I've had literal months to ask you basically anything I wanted, and I didn't. Maybe you can give the first month a pass because I was waiting to wake up from a coma, but even that's a stretch."

"You didn't know you weren't in a coma until a month and a half ago." Morgan protests. "And it's not like you didn't do anything at all. You made a crossbow and you kept up your axe training."

"Morgan, that's barely anything."

"Well…"

"I appreciate your tolerance and trying to reassure me." I say. "But you really shouldn't be making excuses for me Morgan. I know I haven't done enough."

Morgan doesn't look happy about it, which is odd because I don't see why me explaining what I've done wrong would make her upset. She's scowling at the moment.

"So, uh…" I falter. "I might ask you a lot of questions in the next few days, if that's fine. Also, when we get to Ylisstol, would you mind starting to teach me to write?"

"Fine." She huffs.

"And I've been considering getting a sword to replace my axe, because having a side-arm I can carry everywhere seems a lot more useful than an axe I can only carry when travelling or in battle." I say. From my understanding, swords are more or less the medieval equivalent of a pistol. Not a main weapon, but a backup. It would be weird to carry an axe around at all times, that would be like carrying around a rifle, but a sword isn't as out of place. I don't plan on fighting on the front lines if I can avoid it, but I still need a weapon, so a sword seems like the natural choice because I can bring it everywhere. Besides, if I'll be getting my old body back I'll need a lighter weapon. My old body is super weak. "So, uh…"

"I'll train you." She says before I can even properly ask.

"Thanks…" I cough. I'm really not making a case for being less needy at the moment. "Morgan, why are you so unhappy?"

"I don't know." She admits after a tense second. "I just feel annoyed."

"Is it because I was talking down about myself?"

"I think so? That sounds right."

A smile crosses my face. "Well thank you for wanting to protect me from myself, but in this case it's really not necessary."

"I know…"

"You're still cute when you pout."

That makes her scowl even more and cross her arms. She looks like a petulant child. I poke her in the cheek and she huffs at me, but also cracks a smile.

"Thank you for taking care of me Morgan." I say gently.

"Are you always going to be this sappy?" She says. Her arms uncross and she pokes me back. "It's not a problem. I like taking care of you honestly. I like feeling needed."

"Well unfortunately the goal is for me to not need to rely on you to survive." I remind her. Then I make a joke. "Though I promise not to throw you to the wayside when I'm no longer a needy brat."

"You better not! I've invested a lot in you. I don't want it to go to waste." She says. "Besides, if you leave, who will sing for me and roleplay with me?"

"Oh, so now the truth comes out. That's why you want me around." I tease. "You just want entertainment."

"Well…" Morgan drags out the word, smiling. "No, that's not it. But it is a nice bonus."

After that cheesy moment, Morgan goes back to trying to explain money to me… to questionable amounts of success.

Morgan dragging my outside the inn immediately after to start on the basics of swordplay with practice weapons is mildly terrifying, because I know perfectly well how skilled Morgan is and how badly she could kick my ass if she wanted to. Half the reason I'm so reluctant to spar with people in the first place is because I don't want to get injured, and also because I don't want to be constantly made a fool of. Morgan doesn't do either of those things, obviously, but now that we're using the same weapon our skill gap is even more apparent.

Hopefully I can get the basics down before too long. This weapon change should have been done well in advance of now, but better late than never I suppose.

###

In the one week it takes for us to get back to Ylisstol, I focus on trying to get to some level of competence with the sword. With meeting the Shepherds imminent I'm suddenly and painfully aware at how unimpressive I am beyond my game knowledge. I'm a writer who can't write and I can barely defend myself (well, maybe from a range I can with my crossbow). Granted, again, I don't plan on fighting on the front lines, but not being an active liability whenever I do have to enter combat would be nice.

I also spend some time trying to make a new crossbow. It's… slow. I make sure everything is perfectly symmetrical in the crossbow to eliminate my formerly crude construction as a problem affecting my aim. This means measuring every angle, cutting every piece of wood exactly the right length, and a whole bunch of other tedious bullshit. I get it done by the time we get to Ylisstol, but don't have time to test it all that much.

This is my way of saying that we arrive at Ylisstol, and I'm sort of freaking out because that means I'm going to meet the first generation Shepherds soon. The others are similarly nervous, although for much more important reasons. They're meeting their parents after years of them being dead (so to speak).

With this in mind, despite how acutely nervous I am, I smile and try to act confident for the sake of reassuring the others. This situation is not about me. I know Morgan is worried about how her father will perceive her, and Noire has anxieties about her mother because Tharja is… Tharja. I don't really know about Kjelle and Nah because I don't talk to them all that much, but I can imagine for all her tough girl attitude Kjelle is still worried, and Nah is annoyed by her mother but probably still loves her unless something major has changed.

Of course, I don't do the whole "confidence" very well, so in order to fake confidence I sing, quietly, because there are crowds.

Ylisse is big. Well, big relative to other places in this world so far. I've been to Toronto and New York and Rome and all of those are definitely bigger than Ylisstol, but once you're actually in the city and not seeing it from the outside it's easy to forget the size difference. That size also means that if you're travelling down major streets like we are then there are crowds, and having the variety of different appearances that we do, we attract attention.

I imagine it has something to do with Morgan looking Plegian, and Ylisse just finished off the Ylisse-Plegia war, so naturally people here aren't going to be too happy with a Plegian casually walking around their capital city.

If Morgan notices I've nudged her to the center of our group so the rest of us are surrounding her, she doesn't comment. My protectiveness is probably unnecessary, but if no one is complaining I'm going to do it anyways.

Kjelle is leading us at the moment. She grew up in Ylisstol, so she knows exactly where we need to go. Kjelle makes it sound like we should just be able to walk into the Shepherds' barracks unopposed, which seems dubious to me because the Shepherds' barracks is at least ostensibly a military structure and should have at least one or two guards we'll have to get by.

Ylisstol is different from Feroxi cities. The difference was noticeable in the small towns too, but more so here. Where the Feroxi used almost exclusively wood for their buildings, Ylisstol has clay structures for the poorer parts of town and brick and stone for the richer. Rich rooves even use tiling, some of which wouldn't be too out of place in modern times. Some aspects of the city remind me of when I visited Rome, what with the cobblestone roads and old-ass architectural styles. Though I wouldn't exactly say the city is Roman styled, it's just the closest comparison I can make.

There's so many things to take in. We pass through a large square, a market, a road with some huge houses and massive areas of land behind them, what looks like a sectioned-off forest right in the middle of the city, a whole area that seems devoted to restaurants and specialist shops, and many more things that I'm probably forgetting.

I also can't help but notice how empty some parts of the city are. There are entire streets, usually some lower-class neighbourhoods judging by the types of buildings, that are abandoned with only some stray cats and dogs slinking around.

So here's the thing. I'm not a history buff, but I have some minor knowledge about the effects of war, especially large wars. Oddly enough, I learned it in a class about Jane Austen novels. When there is a war, do you know who gets sent to fight? Young men. Either they're conscripted, or else they're targeted by military ads to encourage them to enlist, or for other cultural reasons or just… you get the point. Because war is a bloody thing, literally, that means any country that has a sufficiently nasty war will also lose a lot of young men, and if Ylisse is anything like most medieval countries then young men are the breadwinners of the family.

I'm saying that I suspect these abandoned streets might be a result of families suddenly losing their money-maker. With the husband and/or sons dead, it's only the women left to fend for themselves, and they're going to have a harder time getting money because of the usual medieval sexist bullshit which might necessitate them finding somewhere even cheaper to live than these already shoddy houses. I haven't seen the slums of this city yet, but I would bet gold it's a lot more crowded than it used to be… or maybe it's not, because a lot of the men that used to live there are probably dead as well.

I don't know that for sure, I'd have to ask someone more knowledgeable, but I'm fairly confident that the death of lots of men has something to do with those empty streets. If I remember correctly, Chrom's father also waged war on Plegia in the past, and who knows how bloody that war was and how many men died in it.

Not that there weren't female deaths, but I think we all know they were much less common because beside the pegasus knights and some healers, almost all of the armies are going to be made up of men. That's not me being sexist, that's just facts of the medieval era. Heck, even in modern times on Earth it's still well over 70% men for the militaries of the US or Canada… mostly because young men are still stupid enough to think that joining the military is unequivocally good thing.

Well, okay, that's being a bit unfair. There are genuinely good reasons to join the military. However, in Canada (from what I've seen, I don't go looking for this stuff) it's not too unusual to see recruitment ads that use terms like "serving your country" or "pushing boundaries in X field" (usually science) and conveniently gloss over the possibilities of death and permanent mental and physical injury, and not to mention that the training process is literally designed to strip you of your individualism and turn you into a tool for the country to use. I'd imagine this goes for most other countries too, but I don't know for sure.

So I mean… I guess you could say I hate militaries, or at least how they are operated. I respect the people who serve, but not the organizations. Militaries tend to get a pass in the public eye because they're protecting their country, but in my eyes that's all the more reason to hold them to the highest standard rather than let them use deceptive marketing to get gullible people to throw their lives away just so they can have more numbers.

At least blatant lies and false advertising are better than outright conscription.

Wait, does Ylisse have conscription? A lot of medieval countries did, right? Emmeryn is in charge though. She doesn't seem like she'd allow that, but that might be an anachronistic assumption on my part. Conscription might just be a fact of the medieval world. Just another reason in the long list of reasons why this world sucks.

Well great. I might be forced to fight one way or another. It's just a matter if I want to die alongside the Shepherds or die in an army. What a lovely choice. I'm no pacifist, but I don't want to fight. I respect a person's freedom to choose to put their life on the line or not, including my own. Forced conscription is a human rights violation after all, and even a giant death dragon's return doesn't exempt anyone from moral considerations.

Ugh… this is not what I should be thinking about right now. The last thing I want to do is work myself into a rage just before meeting the Shepherds over something mostly unrelated. Focus Nathan.

I'm totally asking someone about the empty streets later though.

It was never very clear if the Shepherds' barracks was actually within the palace or if it was just nearby. Judging by how Lissa could just drag Robin off to the barracks as Chrom went to talk to Emmeryn though, the barracks has to be nearby at the very least.

As it turns out the barracks isn't in the castle grounds… technically. There is a gate leading directly from the barracks to the castle grounds though. There also isn't a guard for the barracks necessarily, but there are some patrolling the castle walls that can see the entrance to the barracks, so it's not like the Shepherds' barracks is undefended exactly.

That explains why we can just walk in though. Technically, there's no guard.

Morgan and Noire's nervousness is obvious as we stop on the street outside the yard. My own heart is thumping in my chest, but I forcefully ignore it. I'm only responsible for convincing everyone that the others are from the future. No pressure. They're meeting their parents. Much more important.

"Morgan." I say, and put a hand on her shoulder. "You're super fucking cute, highly intelligent, and just, like, the best. If your father doesn't think you're awesome then he's a certified moron."

"Yeah." Morgan says quietly. Then, a moment later, much louder. "Yeah! I'm a genius, and I've been turning heads since we got into the city! I've got nothing to worry about!"

"And Noire." I say, much more gently. She doesn't need a pep talk so much as reassurance. "Your father is probably still alive, so your mother isn't going to be as nasty as she was in the future. Things don't have to turn out like they did then."

"R-Right." Noire murmurs. She takes a shaky breath. "Right…"

"And you two… don't really need reassurance." I say towards Kjelle and Nah. "Nah is a manakete, which is a dead giveaway, and Kjelle is way too much like Sully for there to be much uncertainty anyways."

"Yeah." Nah shrugs.

"I'm taking that as a compliment." Kjelle says haughtily.

You would think that's a compliment, wouldn't you? Granted, I haven't met Sully, so I don't actually know whether I would intend that as an insult or not.

With my sore excuse for comfort out of the way, we actually walk into the barracks. The guards on the castle wall watch us as we enter, but no one moves to stop us.

Just like how everyone actually resembles their portraits, the entryway is remarkably similar to what you see in game. There are actually crates lying randomly around, though at least they're pushed to one side, and there aren't papers scattered across the floor for Sumia to trip over.

There's also no one here, or at least not in the entryway. I don't know if that's just because it's early (it's not quite noon yet, though we're getting close, and I don't see why they wouldn't be up yet) or if it's because no one is here.

"Huh." Kjelle mutters, and shoves a crate out of the way with her foot. "More messy than I remember."

"Less so than the start of the game." I offer in return. "No papers lying around."

"Where is everyone?" Nah frowns. "The war is over. Are they not back yet?"

That's a good point. Though with carts and horses I imagine that would somewhat cut down on travel time.

"Well we can at least look around and try to find someone." Morgan says. She has no hesitation in walking around this building she doesn't know that technically belongs to other people.

We follow her into the mess room where there is… no one. There is also no one in the kitchen. We check outside in the training area, and there is no one there either. We then check every other area of the barracks aside from the bedrooms, and find them unoccupied.

"Well…" I say quietly. "Do we feel like barging into someone's room?"

"Not particularly." Morgan frowns. "Maybe no one is here? That sucks."

A voice I vaguely recognize interrupts us. The terminology she uses is even more of a giveaway. "No so, man-spawn. They are asleep. The trip back from Plegia is taxing on human minds, apparently."

Out of all the people I expected to meet first, Panne was not one of them. I really wish I knew how to pronounce her name at the moment. Is it just "pan" like the cooking item, or is it "pan-eh"? I imagine it's the former, but I don't know for sure.

"Panne." Kjelle says, and turns to face the taguel. She pronounces it like the household item. Good to have that cleared up. "Are Sully and Stahl here?"

"They are." Panne says. "What business do you have here, man-spawn? I do not recall the mention of meetings or guests yesterday."

"Our business is a bit unusual." Morgan chimes in. "Hi! I'm Morgan!"

"...hello." Panne says after a moment, then looks back to Kjelle. "How do you know my name?"

"I'm from the future." Kjelle says simply. "We all are."

Welp, I guess I'm going to have to explain this now. I would much rather explained this to Chrom, or Frederick, or just someone of the main cast, but I guess I have to try and get this through to Panne.

I can't leverage my knowledge of the break in the castle wall with Panne, because Panne probably doesn't know about that. I also can't leverage my knowledge of Chrom slipping in a bathtub when he was young, because Panne also probably doesn't know that. Those were honestly my go-to things for proving I have knowledge that I should have no way of knowing. What else do I use? Hmm…

"The future?" Panne scoffs. "If you are going to lie to me man-spawn-"

"It's no lie." I interrupt. "They're actually from the future. Or, well, an alternate dimension further down the timeline. Basically the same thing."

"They are? And you are not?" Panne asks. She looks more and more suspicious by the second.

"Yes. I'm from beyond the outrealms." I say. I bow to her from the waist. "I'm Nathan. It's an honor to meet you, Panne."

"If you think making progressively more absurd claims is going to help you, then you are mistaken."

"The Shepherds have encountered an individual who calls themselves Marth thrice. Once just after leaving Southtown, one at the Feroxi Khanship Tournament, and once at Emmeryn's attempted assassination. Marth wore a mask and pretended to be male, but was revealed to be female later." I say, keeping my voice as calm as possible. "They have knowledge of the future of some sort, which they have likely not yet revealed."

Panne scrutinizes me closely. "This… is true, as far as I am aware."

"You were informed of Emmeryn's assassination by an individual called Henry, though he has not yet joined the Shepherds." I say. I know this information from reading a translation of the Fire Emblem Awakening audio dramas, because those actually exist. Did you know Lucina and Henry have actually interacted before you meet him on Carrion Isle? Fun fact. "You also have a tactician named Robin. He was found without any memory just outside Southtown by Frederick, Lissa, and Chrom. He probably had a thunder tome and a bronze sword on him to start. Also… you like carrots and don't like potatoes."

Panne stares at me long and hard, and I fold my arms behind my back so Panne can't see how white my knuckles are. If I remember correctly Panne can actually hear heartbeats, so she can probably hear my heart pounding right now and trying to hide my nervousness is pointless.

"That is something you should not know." Panne says quietly. "You claim future knowledge?"

"I claim outside knowledge that may or may not be accurate to the future." I say carefully. "There are things that have changed, and so my knowledge will be more or less accurate depending on certain variables. In very simple terms though… yes. I claim future knowledge. And with that knowledge I will affirm that these girls are in fact from the future as they claim."

Panne stares again, then sighs and mutters. "Everything with humans is so strange."

Sorry Panne. You were unfortunate enough to be the first person to talk to us. This was really information for Robin or Chrom more than you.

"So I guess we just wait here then." Morgan says, and skips out of the kitchen back to the mess hall and drops into a chair. "Hopefully they're up by lunch. I don't want to raid the kitchen."

"You do." I call to her.

"Well yeah." Morgan shrugs unabashedly, and shoots me a grin. "But I have to pretend I don't want to, right?"

###

It's probably a good thing I brought out my chess set, because it gives us something to keep our minds off certain imminent confrontations. Kjelle and Noire and Nah aren't doing something else, so it's their first time fully paying attention to the game and I have to explain the rules all over again so they actually understand what's going on.

They think castling is weird, and that en passant is even stranger. To be fair, there are a large number of people on Earth who don't know what en passant is, or think castling is cheating (no, I'm not joking. Even in Canada where I came from, I've met adults who have played chess to some capacity that somehow never knew castling was a legal move. En passant I can understand because you almost never see it used, but castling is core to the strategy of the game).

The other Shepherds don't wake up all at once. I was expecting to see Frederick early on, but in hindsight he, Chrom, and Lissa probably sleep in the palace rather than the barracks. Instead, the first person who wakes up aside from Panne is Sully.

We don't actually see her walk into the room because we're all focused on the chessboard. We only know she's there when she opens her mouth and barks "Who the fuck are you guys?"

Morgan raises a hand without looking up. "I'm Morgan." She then points to everyone else in turn, still without looking up. "That's Nah, Noire, Nathtan, and Kjelle."

Am I going to have to go through the whole explanation with each individual person who comes down? This is going to be a pain. Also… do we know if Sully is even married at the moment? You know, that's sort of an important point we maybe should have considered before this point.

Kjelle abruptly shoves back her chair and points at her mother. "Sully! I demand a spar!"

"I have no idea who you are kid, but this is a bad time." Sully says tiredly. "We just got back-"

"What sort of knight are you if a march is all it takes to turn you into a weakling?" Kjelle interrupts with a scoff. "Don't insult yourself with that excuse. Grab a pair of practice spears, I'm waiting outside."

Without another word Kjelle marches out of the room. Sully stares after her for a few seconds, then looks at us. "Is anyone going to explain what the fuck is going on here?"

"I will, once everyone is awake." I say, also not looking at her. "I don't want to repeat it every single time someone wakes up. Panne can vouch that I actually have something to say."

"And the spar?"

I wave her off. "That's just Kjelle being Kjelle. Have fun."

Sully doesn't push the issue, thankfully, and does indeed go and get some practice weapons to indulge Kjelle. I guess Sully wasn't going to stand for being called out, no matter how tired she is.

Like mother like daughter. I can say with confidence Kjelle would do exactly the same thing if she were challenged, no matter how exhausted she was.

The next person to wake up is Stahl. I had pinned him as a later sleeper, but I guess I'm wrong. He doesn't have as loud a reaction to see strangers sitting in the dining room. He gives an awkward hello, and we wave back. He asks if we're going to be here for lunch, and we say yes, and he doesn't ask any more questions.

Nice guy. I like him.

Everyone else slowly wakes up and trickles into the dining room. Gregor doesn't bat an eye at us being here, Vaike is curious for about ten seconds before collapsing into a chair, Sumia doesn't seem to process that there is anything unusual at all and basically falls asleep at the table as soon as she sits down.

The next notable person to come in is Ricken, and before Nah can do anything I put a hand on her shoulder and whisper. "We have no idea if your parents are married yet. You're obviously Nowi's daughter, we don't want to make things awkward by making Ricken and Nowi feel obliged to get married." That goes especially because Ricken is a kid. The last thing we want to do is put parental responsibility on him before he's mature enough for it.

Nah nods unhappily, but doesn't talk to Ricken. Noire and Morgan also hear this, and make small nods of their own. Just in case though, I point at Noire and Morgan and whisper. "Tharja for you, and obviously Robin for you, got it? Kjelle is going to be Sully."

They nod again to affirm, and me and Morgan continue playing chess.

More and more Shepherds file in into the room, paying various amounts of attention to the four strangers in their midst. Cordelia, Miriel, Libra, Donnel, Vaike, Lon'qu, Virion, Anna, Gaius (Noire tenses up, and Morgan quietly reminds her not to stare), Olivia (I have to remind Morgan this time), Tharja (Noire averts her eyes all on her own), and finally Robin all eventually make their way to the dining room as the smell of food wafts over from the kitchen, and Sully and Kjelle eventually return from their spar, arguing loudly over something. Panne also slunk into the room at some point, and is leaning against the wall.

Robin looks like the default male avatar. Medium build, short white hair, peach skin, and brown-gold eyes. Standard stuff. Morgan doesn't hide her stare, and Robin is alert enough to notice. He's clearly intrigued by her coat, and he'd probably have commented if not for…

"Hey!" Nowi, who is the last to wake up and just walked through the door, is now pointing at Nah. "You're a manakete!"

"Yes, I am." Nah says dryly. It doesn't hide the tremble in her voice though. "Very astute of you Mother."

The word "mother" exiting Nah's mouth effectively silences any other conversation that was happening in the room, including Sully and Kjelle's loud argument. All eyes flick between Nah and Nowi. Sumia, who was almost asleep before, is suddenly sitting upright. Miriel, who was writing something in a book, stops her scribbling and observes the situation with interest. Even Tharja, who was clearly trying to ignore everyone and huddle in the corner of the room, is now paying attention.

I take a deep breath and stand up out of my seat. The cat is out of the bag now. It's showtime.

"What?" Vaike shouts, breaking the quiet. He's sitting right next to Nah. "Why's everyone quiet? Why're y'all looking at me?"

"It's not you Vaike." Cordelia says quietly. "It's…"

"Okay then!" I say loudly, and clap my hands to grab everyone's attention. All eyes instantly turn to me, and my throat feels dry. Morgan puts a hand on my side, and I calm myself enough to speak. "Hello Shepherds! I'm Nathan, nice to meet you! The cute one is Morgan, the shy one is Noire, the loud one is Kjelle, and the sarcastic one is Nah." I say, pointing to each of my companions in turn. "And before you ask, yes, Nah was being serious when she called Nowi her mother. Time travel and dimension hopping is weird like that."

"What?" Gaius says, a frown on his face. "Time travel? What sort of pegasus dung are you trying to sell-"

"You have a brand on your arm after getting caught doing a job favor for someone else." I interrupt. "You're responsible for framing Maribelle's father and nearly causing him to be killed, though you were threatened by others to make that happen and weren't happy about it."

Gaius' mouth clicks shut, and he stares at me with wide eyes.

"So, I'm from beyond the outrealms. It's complicated, I can explain the full details later. The point is that I have some general future knowledge and some specific knowledge of the past, hence how I knew those details about Gaius. I can also confirm that these girls are in fact from the future. Specifically, they are the children of some people in this room."

That little tidbit of information causes no small amount of nervousness among the crowd. Sumia's hands clench together tight enough that her knuckles turn white. Nowi hopping from foot to foot, barely containing her energy. Miriel is scribbling furiously in her book. Sully is staring down at Kjelle with sudden realization on her face, and Kjelle is staring right back with her arms crossed. Most of the Shepherds just look shocked though.

The person to question me, surprisingly, is Tharja. "You only proved that you know about Gaius." She says in her usual raspy voice. "You could have gotten that information by chance."

"Indeed I could have." I agree. "Incidentally, have you started sending messages to your family yet Tharja? You've also heard of a man named Henry who is guarded by a flock of crows, has incredible skill in curses, and powerful magic. All true by the way. Panne has met him, if you want to ask."

Tharja looks to Panne, and Panne nods.

"Anything else I could say about you doesn't have an exact timeframe, so I don't know exactly when it will happen or when it has happened." I say apologetically. "Or else I'd offer more."

"That's still not enough." Tharja challenges. Some other Shepherds open their mouths, presumably to stop her, but I hold up my hand to forestall comments. I don't exactly have a lack of information to work with.

"So…" I say, glancing about the room. I want a secret I can expose that isn't too cruel to talk about. "Kellam? Are you here?"

"I am." Everyone jumps when his voice softly replies. He was standing near the doorway to the kitchen in my peripheral vision. I'm not surprised I missed him.

"You were a selfish kid when you were younger, weren't you?" I say. "You always got into fights with your five brothers because you refused to share things, and your family started to ignore you because of it, right?"

"That's right." Kellam nods, then more quietly. "All of it is right. I do have five brothers…"

"I didn't know ya had brothers at all." Vaike frowns.

"And there's my point." I interrupt. "You, his companions, didn't know this, but I, a stranger, do. Not because I knew Kellam personally, but because I have outside knowledge of this world. I can keep going if you want, but I don't really want to get into people's more sensitive secrets. If it would help I can tell you about the Shepherds have done so far. Chrom, Lissa, and Frederick probably found Robin lying in a field outside of Southtown, and then the town immediately got attacked, and then on the way back to Ylisstol you got attacked by Risen and saved by someone calling themselves Marth who offered a cryptic warning-"

"True." Robin interrupts. "I'm going to say that's proof enough. You've already shown you have more highly-specific knowledge than you should reasonably be able to have. What is this about us being parents?"

"Well, like I said, these girls are from the future." I say. "Nowi, Nah here is your daughter."

Nowi was barely holding herself back before, and practically flies across the room to hug Nah. There's not a moment of consideration on Nowi's part that I might not be telling the truth, though I suppose Nah being a manakete lends credence to my words. Nah stoically accepts the hug at first, but her cold facade doesn't last all that long before she returns the gesture.

"Sully!" I call, catching her attention. "If it wasn't already obvious, Kjelle is yours!"

"Naga's ass, really?" Sully says, then more quietly. "Twenty six and I've got a full-grown kid, what the heck…"

"I hope that wasn't your best out there." Kjelle taunts. "I'd hate to surpass my own mother within hours of meeting her."

"You little shit." Sully growls, and promptly puts Kjelle into a headlock. They're both smiling though. "I can see I never taught you respect, did I?"

"I respect strength, and that was a weak showing!" Kjelle shoots back.

"And Tharja-" I call.

"Don't tell me…" The dark mage groans.

"Noire here is yours." I say, putting a hand on Noire's back. "Play nice."

Noire nervously makes her way around the table to Tharja, and the two stare silently at each other for a few seconds. Tharja is eyeing her daughter critically, and Noire has her shoulders hunched in anxiety.

"How did I ever make you?" The dark mage says after a few seconds.

"I-I- y-you-" Noire stutters. "A-A lot happened…"

"Clearly." Tharja remarks, unimpressed. "Well, I suppose I can still make something out of you, if you are in fact my daughter. Tell me you at least know how to curse."

"A-A little…" She murmurs. "B-But th-that's… that's not…"

Tharja sneers a bit. "Spit it out girl."

"INSOLENCE!" Noire snaps. "YOU FAIL TO UNDERSTAND YOUR SITUATION! IT IS NOT FOR YOU TO SHAPE ME! YOU HAVE TRIED AND FAILED ONCE BEFORE IN A POOR EXCUSE FOR MOTHERHOOD! I GIVE YOU NOW A SECOND CHANCE, BUT DO NOT PRESUME I WILL TOLERATE YOUR FAULTS A SECOND TIME!"

That sets Tharja back and she looks genuinely shocked, if only for a moment. Whether it's the words or the shouting having that effect I'm not sure. Either way, I think I should stop listening in and let them sort it out themselves. Also, good on Noire for being upfront about what she wants and making it explicit she won't tolerate Tharja's shit. In the game she doesn't mention Tharja's bad parenting except in a few other supports.

"And lastly, of course." I say, and look to Robin. "Morgan is yours Rob. She's objectively the best and won't accept being told otherwise."

"Yeah!" Morgan says proudly. "I'm going to be a better tactician than you Father! Just you wait!"

Robin looks the most shocked out of any of the parents so far, though he pulls himself together quickly. "Alright then. Morgan was it?"

"That's me!"

"Well it's nice to meet you." Robin says, clearly struggling to think of what to say. "I'm sure we have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah." Morgan starts to leave my side, but pauses to tug on my shirt and look up at me. I don't know if she wants me to follow, or if she's asking if I'll be fine on my own. Either way I nudge her to leave. As much as I'd feel more comfortable staying next to her, this isn't something I should interrupt. Let Robin get to know his daughter a bit before needing to grapple with the fact she already has a boyfriend.

Of course, with all the girls busy talking to one of their parents, that leaves me to deal with everyone else and I have no idea what I'm doing.

Thankfully, I don't actually end up having to do that. Two things happen at once. Stahl exits the kitchen, and looks very confused at the hugging and arguing people around him, and Chrom and Frederick and Lissa and Maribelle walk into the mess hall from the front entrance and show equal confusion.

I guess I have some re-explaining to do.

###

"So, yeah." I finish lamely. "Future kids, fun times. You have a kid too! Two actually. They're not here at the moment though."

"I see." Chrom says. "Gods, knowing I have children only a month before being married… These are strange times indeed."

"And I haven't even told you all of it." I say. "I gave you the abbreviated version. There's other information I need to give you, this was just the most immediately relevant. I'm afraid we bring ill tidings."

"I see." The prince frowns. He really is too trusting. He didn't bat an eye at being told the girls were from the future and that I'm from beyond the outrealms. He's also a really nice guy, which is immensely calming. I would be a lot more nervous talking to Maribelle or Frederick or even Lissa or Emmeryn. "I suppose it would be wishful thinking to hope this would be the end of the world's issues, wouldn't it?"

"Unfortunately." I agree. "If that were ever true, world peace would have been achieved a long time ago."

"True words." Chrom says. "How imminent are your ill tidings?"

"Two years, if it's accurate to the game." I say. "There have been some discrepancies in the world already, but this is major enough that I still expect it to happen."

"What game are you referring to exactly?" Chrom questions.

"Oh, right. Where I come from you guys, and this whole world, is a game." I say. "It's hard to explain. You're like… a single-player board game where the player gets to experience major events in your timeline as well as some smaller character interactions, hence why I happen to know details about each individual Shepherds."

"That's quite a game."

"It is." I agree. "It was fun, and I remember a lot from it. It's been quite useful."

"I see." Chrom says. "If you don't mind, what is there about me?"

"You smashed a hole in the castle wall, and Marth used it to get in during the attempted assassination of Emmeryn." I say. "And… has Frederick put up posters of you yet?"

Chrom visibly cringes, then deflates. "Of course that would be in your game..."

I pat him on the shoulder. "Don't worry buddy, only a million or so people on Earth probably know about it."

He sighs deeply and I smile. A tall figure then imposes itself next to us.

"Do not become too comfortable with Milord." Frederick warns me. "You may bring tidings of the future, but we have known you for all of a few hours at best."

"Yeah, yeah." I say. "Nice to meet you too Freddy."

"Do not act flippant with me." The knight scowls. "You-"

"Peace Frederick." Chrom soothes. "He has proven his good will by escorting the children here, and offers us tidings of the future free of charge. I think he is well within his right to relax among us."

"I still advise caution Milord." Frederick says stubbornly.

"I expect no less." Chrom says with a light roll of his eyes. "Thank you for the concern, and please do keep an eye out for anything suspicious, but do not pester or threaten our guests Frederick."

"As you wish Milord."

"Have you managed to eat bear meat yet?" I suddenly ask the knight. "Or is that something you've yet to overcome?"

The man's lips thin into a line. "That is none of your concern, stranger." He then turns sharply and marches away.

Chrom starts to speak. "Please for-"

"Forgiven." I interrupt. "It's fine. I expected as much. I'm hardly unsuspicious. I do hold an uncomfortable amount of power with my supposed future knowledge, it's only natural he be wary especially considering how we waltzed in here and sat ourselves around your table without introduction."

To be honest, my conversation with Chrom is a delay tactic. I'm praying that Morgan will return and get me out of having to talk with all the Shepherds, but at the same time I don't really expect that to happen any time soon. Chrom is the least threatening person to talk to, hence why I'm overjoyed he's sticking around right now.

Lunch was on the table about twenty minutes ago, courtesy of Stahl. Morgan had enough presence of mind to snatch Kjelle and warn her not to give away her who her father was unless she knew Sully and Stahl were together already. Nowi has been all over Nah since the reveal, and dragged her outside to see her dragon form after lunch. Noire and Tharja have been rather subdued all things considered. After Noire shouted at her, they settled down into an awkward-looking conversation and haven't been talking too much since lunch finished.

Morgan, of course, hasn't stopped talking with her father the entire time. She's been talking way more than him. I guess he's not a chatterbox, or he's just fascinated with his new daughter. Imagine when someone tells him that he also has a son.

"You said I have two children?" Chrom prompts. "Can you tell me about them?"

"Well…" I pause and think. Lucina is keeping her identity a secret, but I doubt Brady is. "One of them has their own agenda, and I must respect their privacy. I can tell you about the other though. You're going to be married to Maribelle right?"

Chrom looks a bit put off that I won't tell him everything, but doesn't push me."Indeed."

"Cool. Then… maybe she'll want to hear this too."

"Indeed I would!" Maribelle herself huffs. She hasn't been involved in the conversation, but she's been sitting next to Chrom the entire time.

"Right then! So here's what he's like…" I then proceed to explain Brady to them, to the best of my recollection. Chrom is fascinated, Maribelle is critical. Basically as you'd expect. I answer a few questions, but I'll spare you the details. It's basic stuff anyways.

At some point a servant comes rushing in to talk to Chrom, and he, Maribelle, and Frederick have to leave. I naively hope that no one else will try to talk with me and that I can hide away until the chaos dies down, but I have no such luck. There's no way I was going to get away with dropping future knowledge on everyone and them not wanting to talk to me.

It's no real surprise that I spend the better part of the next hour being pestered about future kids… and I mostly refuse to talk. Most of these people aren't married, and it would be cruel to tell just one person about their kid and lie or be evasive to the other. That's a necessity with the kids that are already here, but I won't inflict that cruelty without it being necessary.

You could argue refusing to say anything is also cruel, but I'd argue it is less so. Being lied to is far more hurtful than being refused information in my eyes, and better not to pick and choose who gets information arbitrarily, or else it will foster resentment.

Most of the conversations are uneventful, ending with the opposing party being mildly frustrated at my refusal to tell them anything, and sometimes confused that I ask if they're married or not.

No one besides Chrom and Maribelle are even on track to be married, so I have to keep my mouth shut. I'm not making many friends among the Shepherds right now, but all of my options are terrible. Either I tell everyone about their kids and potentially make their lives very complicated through them knowing who they're supposed to get married to, therefore making them feel obliged to get married or have some sort of relationship without the natural setup to one, or I can say nothing (like I am now) which is cruel because I'm withholding important information, but at the same time allowing relationships to foster naturally.

The girls must agree too, because they didn't argue with this idea.

The only Shepherd who doesn't seem annoyed with me is Miriel, who nods in understanding when I explain my logic. Thank Naga for Miriel's logical mind. Speaking of Miriel though, I have a question I need to ask her. Naga told me to speak with Miriel if I wanted my body back after all.

"By the way…" I say, after I've finished explaining why I can't tell her about any potential future children she may have. "I've been told that you might know a way to replace someone's body."

"Your informant was slightly inaccurate then." Miriel says. "I am aware of a spell that can do such a thing, though I have not yet been able to obtain it. Is it of interest to you?"

"Yes." I say instantly. "This body- mine, what you see right now- is not me. My actual body got replaced with this one for survival reasons by Naga, though I don't really need it anymore and want mine back."

"Naga you say?" Miriel asks. "How do you know this?"

"She told me as much."

"You have spoken with Naga?

"Yeah." She's taking this well. I was expecting to be called crazy by this point. "It was a one time thing though. She was paying me back for something."

"Can anyone else confirm this?" Miriel questions.

"Not the conversation itself, but Nah can confirm that I Naga intended to speak with me." I offer. "It's a manakete thing from what I'm aware, she can talk with Naga sometimes."

"Fascinating. I shall confirm this later." Miriel murmurs. She takes a moment to push her glasses back up on her nose, as they've slipped down her face somewhat. "If you have interest in the spell to alter your body, I will attempt to obtain it."

"Really?" I say, smiling widely. An immense feeling of relief washes over my body. "For a stranger?"

"I am a woman of science, yet, I am also a Shepherd." Miriel says. "A chance to learn the applications of a new spell and also do a good deed is something that coincides with both of those things. So yes, I will obtain this spell for both of our benefits."

"Thank you Miriel. Truly." I say. "If there's any way I can help, let me know."

"That is unlikely, but I shall remember your words nonetheless." The mage says. "Now if you will excuse me, I must be off. It seems there is little for me if I remain here."

I watch Miriel walk off. She's a lot nicer than I expected. I didn't expect her to be mean or anything, but I did expect her to be mostly indifferent to my situation and that I'd have to convince her to help me. I grossly overestimated how difficult this entire situation would be actually. You'd think convincing people that you're from another dimension and that they have kids from another dimension would be difficult, but it really wasn't in hindsight. Maybe it's because magic already exists and they're dealing with zombies and amnesiacs and whatnot already?

Whatever. I won't question good luck. It won't last forever, so I might as well enjoy it now.

###

After I alienated most of the Shepherds via me by refusing to tell them about their future kids (I still feel awful doing that. Is it the right choice? I could justify only telling the women because kids are based on the mothers in awakening, but it also feels wrong to shut some people out of that knowledge and not others so I'll stick by my choice) there's only a few people that actually want to talk to me. Miriel was one of them, and the other is…

"What a fascinating game." Virion says as I checkmate him. "And this is well known where you come from?"

"Yep. It's the most popular board game in the world, and has had extensive development of strategies over hundreds of years." I say. "I'm not versed in any of them, sadly, but at the highest level this game is incredibly complicated, requiring the ability to plan out moves a dozen terms in advance and have in mind everything the opponent might try to do."

"That is quite an undertaking." Virion agrees. He helps me reset the board. "It sounds like a true nobleman's game."

"I suppose. I think at some point used to train military commanders and generals to help them understand strategy." I recall. "Though at this point it's a household game. It's actually quite an old game, stretching back at least fourteen centuries from present day on Earth."

"That is quite a history." Virion says. "'tis a shame I shall never get to see a truly professional game. I would have quite enjoyed that, I think."

"There were a number of books written about the game too. If I had one on hand I'd offer it to you." I say. "If the game can take off here, the strategies will have to be rebuilt from scratch."

"Do you have plans to try and spread it?" Virion asks.

"I have some designs to do so, yes." I say. "Though I'm not sure how long it will be before I can start my plan, considering there are other things that need to be accomplished in the world. There are still a number of future children that need to be secured, both for their safety and because they're all quite powerful fighters."

"That bodes ill for the future, if we are in need of powerful allies." Virion muses.

"You know exactly why." I remind him. "After all, aren't you here to gather allies because of Valm?"

Virion blinks at me in shock, then shakes his head and chuckles. "My, I suppose I should have expected you to know that."

"That's one of the problems Ylisse is going to face soon." I say quietly, to make sure no one else can hear. "In the game, two years after Gangrel's fall, Valm attacks Ferox after having taken over the rest of its own continent."

"So Rosanne will fall." Virion says quietly. "As I feared."

"It will be freed afterwards." I say. "If it is any condolence."

"I suppose it is better than permanent subjugation." The duke sighs. "But that is a bitter dish to be served."

"There might be some things I can tell you that might help…" I say slowly. "First, I'll be telling Chrom about this, so hopefully they'll be inclined to help sooner rather than later, not waiting two whole years."

"That would be a help." Virion agrees.

"Additionally… are you familiar with someone called Say'ri?" I ask.

"The princess of Chon'sin? Indeed I am." Virion says. He's leaning forward on the table, clearly anticipating some important information.

"Well, Chron'sin is in an odd position when Walhart conquers it." I say. "Yen'fay, Say'ri's older brother, willingly submits to Walhart in order to keep her safe. This is under the threat of an assistant of Walhart's called Excellus."

"So you are telling me that if Say'ri can be kept safe, it might incline her brother to not submit?" Virion asks.

"Possibly." I nod. "I can't say for certain of course, but it seems likely."

"There may be some trouble in attempting to convince Say'ri to trust my words." Virion murmurs. "Do you, by chance, have some way to convince her?"

"Not directly. I don't know any of her secrets." I admit. "However… are you familiar with Tiki?"

"The Voice of Naga? Indeed I am." Virion nods.

"Well, Say'ri is close to her." I say. "And if Nah can talk to Naga, it makes sense that Naga's own daughter should be able to talk to Naga. Naga knows about my game knowledge and will probably back me up. So if you can get Tiki to verify some letter from me to Say'ri, we might be able to convince her that way."

"I see." Virion says. "It is a plan worth attempting at the very least."

We spend the better part of twenty minutes deciding what the letter should say. I just need some way for Say'ri to stay safe. Is that through keeping her with Virion? Or is just alerting them of the threat of Excellus enough? Do I need to say anything else to get them to not dismiss my letter out of hand? I am some random commoner sending a letter to a princess, albeit through Virion.

In the end we conclude the letter should be simple. I will inform Say'ri and Yen'fay of Excellus, and urge them to take steps to ensure they are protected and to not submit to his manipulations. If there is any doubt to my words, Tiki should be consulted so as to verify I am not making this all up (or at the very least confirming I do have "future" knowledge so as to be reasonable in making this suggestion).

Because Virion can't write the letter because his handwriting would be recognized, and I couldn't learn quickly enough for my handwriting to not be atrocious, we'll have to have someone else write the letter. Probably Morgan.

"There's one last thing I need to ask of you." I add once we're finished hashing out the letter. "You know how I mentioned more future kids?"

"Indeed."

"A number of them are located on your continent… what is the continent called exactly?"

"Valentia."

"There are a number of future kids located on Valentia. If you have any time or people to spare, it would be greatly helpful if you could round them up." I say. "If we can find a map, I can point out the rough locations and tell you about their general circumstances."

"I shall be busy, but I can certainly spare a few men to find these children, especially if they are as much a military asset as you seem to think." Virion agrees. "Allow me to fetch my map."

As Virion shows me the map of Valentia and explains what everything is, I learn a few things. So you know Valentia has three mini-continents separated by some water? There's the section where chapter 15 takes place with Say'ri that's vaguely rectangular, the area around chapter 20 which is Walhart that looks sort of like a circle, and then the areas where chapters 18 and 17 which looks like… uh… A distorted triangle? Something like that. Then, of course, we have the Mila Tree being in the middle of all of them at chapter 16. Three distinct land masses, and the Mila Tree. Each land mass is more or less a country. The rectangular area (where the first chapter in Valentia takes place) is Chon'sin, the lower triangle-ish area is mostly Rosanne, and the small circular area is Valm. Thank Naga, all the kids' paralogues are either in Chon'sin or Rosanne. Depending on how much Walhart has conquered, they might all still be accessible without going behind enemy lines.

"The only thing I should say is that Cherche needs to deal with this one." I say, pointing to Gerome's paralogue location. "Gerome is stubborn and won't want to come, so if anyone can convince him it's his own mother. The others shouldn't pose a problem."

"I see. I did not realize Cherche was a part of your game." Virion muses.

"Yeah, she usually joins at the beginning of the Valmese war." I say. "Sorry to put so much of a burden on your shoulders, but I still have some kids around Ylisse and Plegia to round up. Not as many as in Valm, but some."

"It is no trouble." Virion assures. "You have gifted me a potential alliance with Chon'sin through the letter you shall write, and possibly the help of Ylisse much earlier than expected. Fetching a few children is paltry compensation."

He makes it sound like I'm doing him some incredible service, but I'm just conveying information. I'm glad to help, but oddly enough I hope I don't get any great thanks for it. I haven't done anything to deserve it. I'm just a messenger.

It's a relief to have the Valmese kids covered though. I was worried about how we were going to have time to get all of them before the Valmese war, because detouring to get them during the war doesn't seem like a fantastic idea. Now we just have to worry about the Plegian kids and Laurent. Laurent is in Ylisse, which is easy, and Severa and Yarne are both close by each other… along with Dead King's Lament, Gangrel's paralogue.

I wonder if that might be worth checking too. On the other hand, with the war having finished so recently, enough time might not have passed to change his mindset. I don't even know if spotpass chapters are going to exist in this world. Gangrel might just be dead.

That's something to worry about at a later time I suppose.

"Incidentally, you were quite adamant in not revealing anyone's children, yet you revealed that Cherche had one so freely." Virion notes. "Why so?"

"Well like I said, Gerome is stubborn. If Cherche isn't going to talk to him, he's probably not going to come along. It's just a matter of practicality." I sigh. "Look, I want to tell everyone about their kids, but they're not married yet. It would be awful to make people feel like they should be in a relationship because of their kids even if they're not ready for it, and the only other option is to pick and choose who gets to know, which is equally cruel."

"Did it not occur to you to let the individuals choose if they want to hear the information or not?" Virion suggests. "We are not children, we are functional adults."

"Everyone would have to agree then, because some of the kids are very much like their parents and even if I only tell one party it might be obvious who the other is." I say. I'm mostly thinking of Yarne (taguel), Severa (because of the hair), and Laurent (studious behaviour) if I have to tell their fathers. "Look, I'm sticking by my decision. No matter what I choose there's a downside, some cruelty. I'm choosing the path that will ruin as few relationships as possible."

Virion shakes his head. "I'm afraid you will make few friends among the Shepherds then. They will not appreciate what they see as patronizing."

"So be it. I never expected to have friends among the Shepherds anyhow." I say honestly. I expect the future children to be much more open to me than the first generation. My general situation is much more similar to them than to the first generation anyhow.

"As you wish." Virion says, clearly not approving of my decision. "I wish to depart within the month, so please have the letter written as soon as possible."

"I'll do so as soon as Morgan is free." I promise. I gesture to the chessboard. "When this whole mess is over with, I'd love to play a few more rounds with you."

That gets a smile. "I would be honored, though I'm afraid I won't be much more of a challenge without being able to practice. Perhaps I can introduce you to a favoured game of mine at some point?"

"I'll look forward to it."

###

Most of the Shepherds aren't sticking around for too long apparently. I overhear various plans to visit homes by most of them, though most will also return for Chrom and Maribelle's wedding. Not everyone is leaving though. Some people like Gregor and Nowi and Gaius don't really have anywhere else to be.

The Shepherds still have work to do as well, once everyone returns. Risen run rampant across the country, and while the Shepherds need a rest their might is still required afterwards.

I learn most of this from Kellam, who I think is happy that anyone is talking to him at all. However, soon he too needs to leave, and I'm finally left without trying to get my attention. All the talking has really tired me out. I feel like I spent two hours singing with how sore my throat is.

Nowi and Nah are out somewhere, they never came inside after Nowi wanted to see her dragon form. Kjelle and Sully went out on the town. I think they would have spent more time sparring if Sully wasn't genuinely exhausted from the long trip they apparently had yesterday. Noire and Tharja are… gone. I didn't see them leave, so who knows what's up with them. Morgan and Robin are still in the barracks, though I saw them move towards the bedrooms so I assume they're holed up in Robin's room.

That leaves me alone, and with an extremely rare moment of free time. I spent so much time over the last several months on the road and next to Morgan that I never actually realized just how little time I've had to myself.

I could do anything with my free time. I could go explore the city, I could get information on current world events from the people around me, I could do any number of things… and despite my anxiety about being alone, I do go explore a bit. I have the palace as a convenient landmark, so getting lost thankfully isn't going to be a problem even if my sense of direction is terrible.

I don't have a plan as I wander around. I don't want to buy anything significant without running it by Morgan first, so my wandering is mostly just me taking note of shops and locations.

Surrounding the palace, as you might expect, are a bunch of expensive and gaudy houses. A rich neighbourhood, and one in which I look sorely out of place. I hurry though there and avoid making eye contact with anyone around me.

Just beyond the expensive houses are expensive shops (unsurprising now that I think about it), and those nab my interest. There are tailoring shops of course, fashion is a universal constant it seems, and some of the people I see going in and out of those places have truly ostentatious clothes and look more like Gangrel than Virion.

Fashion is gonna fashion, no matter how much the rest of the world raises their eyebrows.

In other news, there are restaurants, and those grab my attention. I'm aware that I maybe sorta totally owe Morgan for supporting my sorry ass for the last several months, so some sort of gift for her is on my mind. However, considering the rich clientele I see, I doubt my pathetic six silver is going to be able to afford any of these places.

I do spot a bookstore, which might be of interest once I learn to read. I need to remember that for later. It also occurs to me that if Robin was a tabletop wargamer in the future, there's probably a few shops for that here in Ylisstol. Morgan might find those of interest. A bit of searching does locate at least one of them, which is great.

I mention these minor things because I'm not finding anything too important. There are stores for a bunch of boring things like shoes or swords or what have you, but nothing that grabs my attention.

Eventually I stumble across a market square, and there I finally find things of interest. It's not the spice sellers or people hawking "exotic" items or what have you, but the simpler things. There's a man selling jewelry, from simple beads of amber to ornate and expensive gems and gold. There's another man selling tomes, from fire to thoron to some I don't recognize at all. I also locate someone selling magical curiosities. Trinkets really. A small wooden platform with a rune that will emit a small gust of air to balance a small ball on top of it, a stone that will magically heat itself, a cup that will freeze any liquid put into it, and so on. They're a bit too costly for me to actually consider buying, but I could see some actual practical use for a heating stone like that. If you're in a cold climate you can put in on top of, under, or in your bedroll to keep yourself warm. If it can make powerful heat, you could use it as a grill without needing a fire.

A heating stone… I'll try to remember that.

I'm drawn to the jewelry stand over time. Jewelry, or accessories of any sort, have never really been my thing. I'm more curious about it with Morgan in mind, I'd like to get her a gift of some sort… though I quickly realize that at no point has Morgan ever shown interest in jewelry. Impulsively I had made the connection between Morgan being a woman and jewelry, which is ridiculous when I actually consider what I know about Morgan.

What do I know about Morgan though? She likes purple and black, she's a bit dirty-minded, likes to joke around, and I know about her father and how nervous she was about meeting him, but that's a shamefully small amount of information about her general likes and dislikes. She enjoys board games, I know that, but really what else do I know?

I don't know how much to look into that. Do I know so little because I don't pay attention, or is it because Morgan herself doesn't know what she enjoys due to her amnesia, and the constant travelling hasn't allowed her to figure out anything else?

"Well no, wait, I am overlooking something." I remember. Me and Morgan did a lot of shopping, not for anything important, but just for random trinkets that caught Morgan's eye. That's… that's honestly not much to go on either.

Well fuck. This is why getting a gift is hard: a bunch of second-guessing and my own inability to pay attention to other people.

So that's why I'm going to put stock in something my mother once told me. People tend to like a gift just because they got a gift. It's better if the gift is useful or personalized, but as long as the gift isn't painfully generic like socks and the person isn't an asshole, they'll like whatever you get them.

This is my way of saying I buy the stupid heat rock. A rock. My first gift to Morgan is literally a rock. Wow. Amazing Nathan. What a moment to remember. It's a fancy magic heat rock, but it's literally a rock. As soon as I buy it I regret it. At least I managed to get the seller to drop the price a bit. This thing is not worth five silver, no matter how many theoretic applications he wants to claim it has.

Well, too late now. I have the goddamn rock. Is this better than getting her nothing? I honestly don't know.

"Calm down. This is Morgan you're talking about." I remind myself. "If tolerance was an issue, she would have gotten rid of you a long time ago. Besides, she finds just about everything fascinating. The heat rock will be no exception. It's not like the rock is useless either."

So as to not make this whole excursion feel worthless, I find a place that will sell me a simple quill and ink set for one silver. If I'm going to learn to write, I don't want to waste Morgan's supplies. I'd like a fountain pen, if just because it's more like a normal pen than a quill, but those things are expensive. I'm talking multiple gold levels of expensive for a single pen. They're a luxury item. No thank you. I also get a simple bronze sword now that I'm actually learning the weapon. Twenty copper.

I'm also running low on money now, and I suddenly remember that I'm dirt poor in this world. I'm not used to having this little money. I need to get more money, and I'd rather not mooch off Morgan more than I have to.

The sun is starting to set, and I realize I've been walking around for longer than I expected. Four hours, maybe more? How did I spend so long out here and yet find so little? It's with great reluctance that I start to make my way back to the barracks. This was supposed to be free time to myself, but I feel like I managed to waste that time somehow.

I slink through the front door and can hear voices from the mess room. Is dinner soon? I left around one o'clock, so it's got to be five or six by now.

Peering into the dining room reveals… Morgan! Also Robin, of course. It must be time for dinner if they're not still holed up in Robin's room.

I'm deciding if I should enter and risk interrupting something or come back later, but Morgan makes that decision for me by flagging me down as soon as she sees me peeking around the entrance to the room. "Naaathan!"

"Mooorgan!" I parrot. She's waving me over, so I approach and stand to her side, opposite of Robin. Morgan pats the chair, so I sit. I'll admit this makes me nervous. Robin has his eyes on me, and I have to wonder what Morgan has said about me thus far.

I'm just gonna keep this rock in my pocket for now. Bad enough I chose a rock as a gift, I'm not showing the depths of my bad gift choices in front of Morgan's father too.

"What's up?" I ask.

"You tell me! You vanished, and without saying anything!" Morgan pouts. "I came out looking for you and you were gone!"

I wonder when that was. I was talking to people for a good long while. "Well you seemed occupied and everyone else was gone, so I investigated the town a bit. It turns out rich people dress weird. I swear one of the women was dressed as a chicken with all those feathers on her outfit."

"Was it hot outside?" Morgan asks.

Very random, but okay, whatever. "I guess. It's not quite summer yet, right? But it's certainly hotter than Ferox."

"So would you say the woman was a hot chick then?" Morgan asks.

Of course Morgan would make that joke. I don't remember teaching her that exact slang, but she's sharp. I must have used it at some point and she deduced what it meant. "In a manner of speaking, yes, but not in the way you're implying."

I'm tempted to add "lewd girl" and poke her in the nose as I usually do, but Robin is right behind her so I refrain from that. I don't know Robin at all right now. I need to play it safe. I can't risk annoying Morgan's father.

I think I understand why meeting the girlfriend's parents is always considered so scary in television shows and whatnot. Even without Robin saying anything I feel pressured to perform and try and present myself in my best light.

Whatever light that is.

"Did you find anything else?" Morgan asks. "Not just a warm chicken I presume."

"I discovered that restaurants are still expensive, and that there is indeed a wargaming store in town. Bookstores too."

"That it?"

"There were a lot of generic things." I shrug. "There was a guy selling magic trinkets I guess, but really nothing too interesting beyond what I've already told you."

"Was it just that dull without me around?" Morgan teases.

"Well yeah, but that's pretty standard." I see an opportunity to do a bit, but again hold myself back because of Robin. I think Morgan was expecting me to do something else too from the awkward silence after my words rather than an instant response from her. I guess we have a mutual sense of comedic timing at this point.

Is it comedic? I don't think that's the term, but it's the closest thing I can think of. Maybe dramatic timing? No, no, not quite that… ah whatever, the term doesn't matter.

Because Morgan isn't oblivious, she obviously takes note of how strange I'm being. "Not feeling it today?" She asks quietly.

I may be tired, but I always have time for you Morgan. It's literally just because of your father that I'm not doing our normal bits. "That's one way of putting it."

Morgan squints at me for a solid five seconds, then turns to her father. "Faaather!"

"What?"

"What did you do!?"

How on Earth did Morgan figure that out so quickly? That's also very unfair to Robin. He hasn't actually done anything, I'm just paranoid.

"I swear I haven't done anything." Robin says, holding his hands up in surrender. "I listened when you said he was skittish."

I'm not sure if I'm more embarrassed that my nervousness was noticed, or that Morgan felt it necessary to warn her father that I'm always nervous. She's right of course, but it's still embarrassing. "It's fine Morgan. He didn't do anything."

"Okay." Morgan says suspiciously.

"So what did you want me for?" I ask. "You were waving me over."

"I wanted my father to meet my boyfriend of course!" Morgan huffs.

Okay, so Morgan already told him about that. Cool. No pressure. "Oh."

"So Nathan, this is Father, you already know about him. He's super smart and all that. He already has some of those Multirealm figures!"

"Really?" I ask. He started collecting early huh? "Does he have the dragon lady already?"

"Not yet." Morgan says. "But yeah, super great tactician and all that."

"Better than you?" I tease.

"Well I never said that." Morgan scoffs and smiles. "We'll figure it out soon enough. Gonna play some games when he's not super tired."

"I'm sure you'll win." I reassure.

"Wow, way to insult my father right in front of his face Nathan." Morgan teases back.

"I mean, it's either insult my girlfriend or insult her father. There's no good option." I say.

"Nathan, it was a joke."

"I know." I say, and I did know, I'm just playing it safe.

Morgan squints at me again. "Are you sure you're fine?"

"Yes Morgan."

"Totally positive?"

"Yes Morgan."

"If someone is giving you trouble I'll "deal with" them, no questions asked!"

"There's really nothing Morgan. Also, please don't do that."

"If you say so…" Morgan says reluctantly. She then turns to Robin. "So anyhow, Father, this is Nathan. He's great. I mean right now he's nervous for some reason, but he's great. Also cute."

"Subjective." I mutter.

"Subjective to me, and I'm always right!" Morgan says. "Therefore it's objective!"

"That's… that's not how that works."

"Yes it is, because I say so! Subjectively!"

"That's also not how that works."

"Shush!" Morgan pouts. "I'm the smart one here!"

I raise an eyebrow. "If you say so."

"I do!"

Robin coughs sharply, and we stop our usual back and forth. Robin is looking at me, and I'm struck by nervousness again.

"Well… I'm Robin." Robin says, and extends a hand to shake. "Apparently I have you to thank for keeping my daughter out of trouble."

"That's giving me a bit too much credit." I say, though I do cautiously shake the offered hand. We're both awkwardly leaning over Morgan who is between us to facilitate this shake. "I vaguely point the group in the right direction and let Morgan handle the rest. The only other thing I do is keep her entertained so she doesn't… I dunno, burn down a forest."

"I only set one tree on fire!" Morgan protests. "And we stopped it before anything happened!"

"My point exactly." I jest. "I've done my job well. I also stop her from rolling into fires."

"One time Nathan! That happened one time!" Morgan protests.

"Don't discount boredom as a threat to a soldier." Robin says. "The Shepherds can tell you that solid companionship is just as valuable as a good meal."

What a very power-of-friendship thing of you to say Robin. Not that I disagree, but I'm not used to people actually admitting such a thing. Apparently mental health is a concept that exists here. Good to know.

"Well, I've at least managed companionship." I say. "But Morgan has pulled most of the weight otherwise. She's been keeping my sorry self alive."

"She told me you would say that." Robin says. "And also that it's not true."

Morgan smiles smugly, and I raise an eyebrow at her. I then point a finger at her. "You shouldn't lie to your father."

"It's not a lie!"

"Doubt."

Morgan doesn't dignify that was a further response, and settles for more smug smiling.

"Well then." I sigh, looking again at Robin. "You can decide that yourself."

"I will." Robin agrees. "Incidentally, Morgan couldn't stop talking about you."

Morgan, please don't tell me you tried to make me sound amazing. I'm only going to end up disappointing your father and ruining everything. "Well, we quite literally haven't been apart for more than a few hours at a time over the last several months. So I suppose it isn't surprising that she's rather attached." And I'm rather attached to her in turn.

"By the way." Robin says, and leans forward. "I suppose I should just say this outright, Morgan has explained various things the two of you do on a regular basis. The roleplay, you carrying her, sharing a bed, and so on."

"Oh." Is that bad? He's not smiling. That might be bad.

"Father…" Morgan says in a warning tone. Her smile is gone, replaced with a thin-lipped squint of judgement. Robin ignores her.

"Firstly, while I don't exactly approve, I'm not going to be one to stop you." Robin says. "You're adults, and if you think you know what you're doing I won't complain. However, I will warn you that the upper class, especially the Ylissian upper class, is rather uptight and you may find it to your benefit to be discreet if you plan on… fooling around. Especially considering you are neither married nor formally courting."

I totally forgot how anal certain groups in medeival times could be about that sort of thing. I guess this also means that Morgan might have a semi-important position for being the daughter of the Shepherd's tactician, or else this warning would be much less relevant. Robin is probably an aristocrat by virtue of being the Shepherds' tactician and also a mind behind the Ylisse-Plegia war in general, and therefore Morgan is also technically an aristocrat now.

"Fair enough. That's more of an open mindset than I've seen in most adults where I come from." I say. I appreciate the warning in fact.

"I'm glad I have your approval." Robin says with a roll of his eyes.

"Oh, uh, sorry."

He waves it off. "If condescension, especially accidental condescension, was enough to offend me I'd have been at Miriel, Vaike, and Frederick's throats within a day of knowing them."

Point. Also Maribelle I imagine, but I doubt he wants to speak ill of the soon-to-be queen.

"And at least you apologize." Robin says under his breath. I'm sensing an itty bitty amount of resentment in our friendly neighbourhood tactician here. "But it's fine. I understand where you're coming from."

"Right."

A bit of an awkward silence settles over our trio after that, and Morgan eventually claps her hands to break it. "Okay, I'm gonna go see if dinner is going to be happening soon. You two have fun. Play nice Father."

With that, Morgan gets out of her seat and walks to the kitchen, leaving me alone with Robin.

After Morgan is out of sight, Robin sighs and says. "We're not even eating here, we're going out. We were talking about that minutes before you arrived."

"She's usually less transparent about this sort of thing." I note. "Normally I can't tell when she's manipulating me. I only learn about it because she tells me after the fact."

"And you're fine with her manipulating you?"

"It's always well-intentioned, and she never does anything serious without consulting me." I say. I'm thinking about those times where she nudged me to talk to strangers by conveniently being occupied with something else. "So yeah, I'm fine with it."

There's another small silence before Robin says "I had to talk her down from going out to find you. She seemed convinced that you might be in trouble."

"Honestly, that's probably a good impulse from her." I grimace. "I tend to stand out, and talking to people isn't my strong suit. In hindsight, I wouldn't be surprised if I'm a walking target for thieves and lowlifes. My self-defence skills aren't nearly up to par with everyone else either."

"Hmm…" Robin hums. "And yet you survived this far."

"By hiding behind Morgan." I say honestly. I'm probably not endearing myself to him, but I'd prefer honesty. Lies will only bite me in the ass later down the road. "I'm not much of a fighter, nor do I want to be. My primary contribution to the group was my sort-of future knowledge… and maybe singing a lot to make travel less monotonous."

"Morgan mentioned some of your songs. They sound… interesting."

"Yeah that's one way of putting it. They're weird by this world's standards. Actually, some of them were weird by my world's standards too." I muse.

"I see…" Robin says. "Nathan."

"Yeah?"

"May I be frank?"

"Sure." Here we go. The "I don't like you" speech. That's what I'm expecting.

"I have no idea what I'm doing, and I don't know what to think about you." He confesses. "The fact that I have a daughter now is already quite a bit to handle, and she thinks the world of you, but I think we both know there's a bit of exaggeration and ignorance of your flaws in her assessment."

"Can confirm." I agree.

"And at the same time, you seem to want me to believe the complete opposite. Morgan told me you would downplay anything positive about yourself, and so far almost everything I've seen reinforces that assessment." Robin says. "So I'm left in an odd position. I cannot say I distrust you. Morgan may think too highly of you, but at the same time she does not strike me as stupid and likely chose you for a good reason. Yet also, I see many signs of weakness in you that make me wary."

"That's a fair assessment." I say. "I'm nothing impressive, that's for sure."

"Make no mistake. I don't dislike you." Robin says. "You seem like a fine person. Speaking to you now hasn't changed that perception. It's simply a matter that I want to have high standards for people surrounding my daughter."

I mean, I can't argue with that. A parent wants the best for their child. Even if they just met their child six hours ago and that child is an adult. "Well, hopefully I'll meet some of those standards. Eventually. It's not going to be in the next month, no matter how much either of us want that to be the case."

"I wouldn't expect that." Robin says, and then smiles. "And admittedly I have only spoken to you for ten minutes at best. Any assessment on my part is admittedly light on the evidence side of things and therefore tenuous, so let's not put too much importance on it."

And yet we went through the whole routine of you analyzing my character anyways. It wasn't a threat but he did give me a warning, if indirectly, that he's watching me.

"And honestly, I'm expecting my opinion isn't going to matter very much considering how… willful… Morgan seems." Robin sighs.

"Yeah." I say, also smiling. "That's one word to describe Morgan."

"So, are we good?" Morgan says, and pokes her head around the entryway. "Or do I have to pretend to be busy for a bit longer?"

Not even trying to hide it, are we Morgan? Robin also seems rather chill, so maybe I can make a joke. "Now Morgan, the men are talking. Back in the kitchen with you."

A wide smile crosses Morgan's face. "Yes dear, sorry dear." She simpers. "Do you want stew or roast pheasant?"

"I want a whole boar woman! Are you not pulling your weight?" I bark. "Boar! I always want boar! Are you deaf as well as stupid?"

"Of course dear, sorry dear." Morgan repeats, trying to act meek but failing because of the stupid grin on her face. "I'll get right on it."

She vanishes behind the wall for a few seconds, then peeks out again. "Uh, there's nothing I can really do to keep the act up."

"Eh, I didn't really think it through anyways." I shrug.

Morgan skips over to our side again. Robin watched the whole interaction in silence with a raised eyebrow but no other reaction.

"So!" Morgan says, and grabs my arm while looking at her father. "Where are we going?"

"Morgan, I'm not coming."

"You are." Morgan says.

"Morgan…." I say gently. "I'm not going to intrude on your time with your father."

"Nathan, if you don't come with us, what exactly were you going to do for dinner? The Shepherds aren't eating here. Pretty much everyone is gone." Morgan says. "Be honest."

"Probably going to find some tavern with cheap enough food for me to afford." I say sheepishly.

"My point exactly, and you would have been nervous the entire time because you were alone." Morgan huffs. "So you're coming with us."

"I don't want to intrude…"

"Non-negotiable! Come on!" Morgan insists, pulling me up.

"Come along Nathan." Robin sighs and rises from his chair. "We both know how this will end."

Yeah, we do. Morgan will get what she wants, one way or another. That said, I'm absolutely going to make her spend a day with her father without me at some point soon. As much as I appreciate her thinking of me, this really isn't the time for that.

Chapter Text

Despite having the most comfortable bed I've slept in so far in this world, last night was not a particularly good sleep. I think it might have something to do with not having Morgan around. Part of what I mentioned before about us never spending more than a few hours apart also includes at night. She was always either sleeping in the same bed as me, or else her bedroll was next to mine.

I'm so used to hearing her breathing that it actually made falling asleep rather difficult. Just something else to get used to I suppose.

Dinner last night was also awkward. Me and Morgan didn't banter like we usually would because I was still wary of Robin, and Robin asked a few questions but otherwise wasn't very chatty. Morgan really tried her best to carry the night, but even her immense charisma could only do so much.

Anyhow… I wake up early this morning, and not exactly by choice. A knock at the door to my room wakes me. I'm sleeping in the Shepherds' barracks. Despite being a barracks, there are individual rooms. Small rooms, granted, but individual.

I'm about to complain at Morgan for waking me up, but it's not her voice that comes through the door. "Nathan. My pardon to wake you so early, but I have business to attend to after breakfast that will occupy my entire day, and I wish to speak with you before that."

Robin was not the person I expected to have knocking at my door, but I can't exactly ignore him. I drag myself out of bed, into my clothes, and to the door. "Sure, what is it?"

It's sunup, barely five thirty. That's way too early to be up in my opinion. Still, we sit ourselves down in the mess hall (apparently Robin's office is in the palace, not here, or else we'd talk in there) and Robin brandishes a quill and parchment.

"I've been made aware that you have vague knowledge of future events." He says. "And seeing as many of my meetings in the near future are going to involve planning for the future of Ylisse, I need this information as soon as possible."

Fair enough. I only shared major future details with Chrom and Virion for simplicity's sake, and there's nothing quite like a firsthand source, so I guess I'm re-explaining everything.

I give him the bullet notes version of the Awakening's major events: Valm's attempted invasion of Ferox, getting boats from Plegia and meeting Henry and the Hierophant, meeting Say'ri (I briefly explain the plan involving Virion) and the situation with Yen'fay, the Mila Tree and Tiki, Execellus' role in everything, Basilio fake-dying to Walhart, how the showdown with Walhart goes, how Robin is supposed to lose the Fire Emblem and all the gems to mind-control bullshit and the Validar showdown (judging by how his brow furrows and the nod of recognition he gives when I describe the usual cutscene of him "betraying" Chrom, he did get the premonition before he woke up near Southtown), and then Grima's rise and the sadistic choice in Awakening's ending.

Through this I don't reveal Lucina's identity. I simply mention that Marth helps and joins the Shepherds and reveals that the future children exist. I suppose it's not a major issue if Lucina's identity is revealed at this point, but it feels rude to take away her choice to remain incognito.

I also make sure to mention the extra paralogues. Aversa, Walhart, Gangrel, Priam, Yen'fay, and Emmeyn (though I suppose Emmeyn is still alive so that's redundant).

Robin listens in silence for the most part, taking sharp notes that I can't read because it's a different written language goddamnit. After I run out of major events to mention he finally sets down his quill.

"Always wonderful to know choosing not to die means the world will continuously suffer." Robin grumbles under his breath. "Well thank you for the information. I'll keep it all in mind. Also, incidentally, next time you're making plans with the ruler of a country, maybe consider involving a representative from the country you're currently in especially if it also involves them to a certain extent."

That must be in reference to me planning with Virion. "It's not illegal to make plans with other people, and I said I'd tell someone like you or Chrom about it."

"Yes, but it involves Ylisse." Robin stresses. "You can't negotiate for Ylisse."

"Since when am I doing that? I'm just helping Valentia not fall to pieces, and I only said that I'd try to get Ylisse into action earlier. I never said I spoke for Ylisse, and I didn't guarantee anything." I say. This seems like a very arbitrary thing to argue about. "And it's Virion, Robin, not some random diplomat. He knows I don't speak for Ylisse because I'm from another world, and I didn't give sensitive information regarding Ylisse."

"But you shared sensitive information overall." Robin says tersely. "You can't share vital information like that so easily."

"And why not?" I frown. "Virion's country is in the line of fire, and he's an ally. How is this even an issue? It's not like I'm handing this information to Gangrel or something."

"But Ylisse could have made better use of the information than handing it away for free." Robin insists.

Oh. Oooh… He's one of those people. Okay. Well, one of two kinds of people. I need to figure out which. "And why is that?"

"Because it's impossible to know what Virion is really thinking, or what the other major players of Rosanne will think." Robin says. "It's better if Ylisse can bargain with the information for a concrete advantage rather than leaving it up to Rosanne to try and solve the problem. That's equivalent to rolling the dice, and we don't play dice with people's lives."

I'm still not sure if he's a hardcore Ylissian patriot, or if he just doesn't trust other people to be as good as he is at strategizing. Maybe both? Alternatively, he might have the illogical mindset that anything he doesn't know is something other people can't know. I imagine that wouldn't be a conscious thought process because it's obviously illogical, but it might be a blind spot for him.

No matter what, I don't agree. I understand the fears and ideas associated with those thought processes, but I don't agree. "Robin, handing over information for free is not rolling dice. Virion and Rosanne will know what's coming, which allows them to prepare, which will lead to a better outcome if literally anyone listens to Virion. It's only rolling dice in the sense in that we can't guarantee how much it will help, but it will help. Additionally, bargaining for the information would only be taking resources away from Rosanne, and they need everything they can get to stall Valm's advance."

"But Ylisse could use those resources more efficiently." Robin argues. "Yes, Rosanne needs resources to deal with Valm. I'm not saying we'd demand the majority of their food supplies or something, but anything they can afford to give us would be much better used by Ylisse."

"By that logic you'd want all extraneous resources in Ylisse's hands." I say. I don't bother to hide my disapproval. "And besides, it's just a dick move to demand compensation for information vital to saving the world and stopping a tyrant. Even if you are correct logically speaking and Ylisse could better use resources from Rosanne, that doesn't mean you are correct from a moral standpoint. That's like demanding money from someone to give them medicine to save their life. Even if they can easily afford it, you're still an asshole for demanding it."

"War doesn't care about how much of a dastard either side is. It just cares about who wins and who loses." Robin defends. "If Ylisse can better use the resources, it doesn't matter if it's rude or not. Practicality has to be our primary concern. What if one thousand gold in Ylisse's hands rather than Rosanne's is the way the war is won or lost?"

"By that logic, why doesn't all of Rosanne just subject itself to Ylisse's governance because Ylisse can so clearly do a better job?" I shoot back.

"I- of course not." Robin frowns. "That's completely unrelated."

"Not so. You're saying Ylisse can do a better job with resources than Rosanne, so wouldn't it make sense that if Ylisse had all of Rosanne under its control it could do a better job at dealing with the war because it has access to all of Rosanne's resources? And there's no excuse of not making them give up vital resources either, because it's all for Ylisse to manage now and Ylisse should know what's vital and what's not." I say.

"That's… no." Robin says. "That's not right either."

"What makes it not right? You said Ylisse can make better use of resources than Rosanne, and Rosanne letting Ylisse take control of it makes all extra resources available to it."

"But that could be done without Ylisse taking control."

"Could it? How do you know Rosanne isn't wasting something?" I prod. I'm well aware that's a stupid question. Of course something is being wasted in Rosanne, and so is it in Ylisse. The trick is to see if Robin will point that out or assume Ylisse is mostly perfect. "Ylisse must be more aware of how to efficiently spend it's resources, or else you wouldn't argue for "bargaining" to get some from Rosanne." And yes, I do put the word "bargaining" in air quotes with my fingers for Robin to see. I'm not exactly trying to hide that I think Robin is suggesting something closer to extortion than actual bargaining.

"It has more to do with Ylissian weapon and troop quality than things like food." Robin finally clarifies. "It is unlikely Ylisse could not run Rosanne better than the Rosannites themselves. Too much cultural dissonance would ensue for it to be effective for quite a while, not to mention the people would resent it. No, I am saying that Ylisse could use gold or metal more effectively because it can make better weapons than Rosanne with the same resources, and spend gold on recruiting and training better troops than Rosanne could with the same amount. In that capacity, Ylisse could do better, hence why I argue for bargaining for resources. It is in Rosanne's interests as well for Ylisse to make best use their metal and gold."

Interesting argument, and honestly not the worst point to make. That also makes a lot more sense than just "Ylisse can do better because it's Ylisse". There was some logic behind Robin's suggestions, and the fact that it puts more power in his capable hands is a bonus most likely.

"I still disagree." I say. "You could tell Rosanne how to make better weapons, and teach their own military personnel how to train better troops. But you make a more coherent point now at least."

"We can't give away Ylissian technology and techniques to Rosanne for free. Ylisse has to consider its own interests. It might be a solid short-term solution to Walhart, but in the long term Ylisse would have lost potent bargaining tools and possibly created a new military threat to themselves down the road. Perhaps not in this generation with Virion in charge, but there is no guarantee new rulers will be so amiable."

"Same could be said of Ylisse towards every other country. Need I remind you of Chrom's father? Is Rosanne not just as entitled to be able to defend itself against Ylisse and other threats as Ylisse itself?" I argue.

"I- well yes-" Robin frowns. "But Ylisse shouldn't abandon something unique to itself for free."

"True." I murmur. As much as I'm for acting morally and with good will, it doesn't make sense to just give away knowledge of military value for no cost without an extremely good reason. Acts of charity are nice, but that generally doesn't apply to giving away free guns. Sharing the cure to a deadly disease for free? That's just moral. Free guns? Eh… not unless you have to. That's begging for trouble, even if you're handing them to allies. "Well, uh, anyhow. That was a rousing philosophic or political debate. I don't know which one that counts as."

"Indeed. You've given something to think about later. " Robin says. He's still frowning, though it doesn't look like he's angry so much as contemplative. His voice suddenly drops to a whisper. "Anyhow, I have one last question."

"Shoot."

"Pardon?"

"Uh, go ahead." I've done that before, haven't I? Was it with Morgan, Noire, or Kjelle? How time flies.

"What do I do about Morgan?" He asks quietly. Suddenly I'm reminded that he's not just a genius tactician war hero, he's a nervous new parent. Right. I have to wonder how much effort it took for him to act calm and confident yesterday. How well is he actually handling suddenly having an adult daughter? How much panic and uncertainty is he hiding? That goes for all the new parents actually. "What does she like? What does she hate? What am I supposed to do about her constant jokes? Am I going to seem overbearing if I keep trying to teach her how to act given her new status? I have no idea what I'm doing. I didn't have time to prepare for this."

Okay, yeah, he's freaking out just a little bit. "She likes playing board games, literally any board game so far. You can try to teach her about her status, but don't expect her to be super on board with anything she thinks is stuffy or arbitrary or pointless. If you have a sense of humor, regardless of what it is, give it a shot. So far Morgan has been totally okay with just about any sort of humor under the sun. Doesn't matter how dark or random it is." I try to think of something more useful to say. Everything I've said so far is pretty generic. "Uh… don't be afraid to be honest, and even blunt if you need to. It doesn't matter what it's about, even if it's about her in some fashion. Morgan isn't nearly as illogical as she might seem, she just doesn't usually act serious if she doesn't have to."

I hope that's good advice. I'm usually terrible at giving advice. Robin seems satisfied with it though, so I'm going to assume I said something useful.

"I'll keep that in mind." Robin says. "Thank you."

"No problem. Really don't sweat it. Unless you majorly screw up, Morgan probably won't care. She already thinks highly of you." I soothe.

"That's exactly what makes me worried." Robin sighs. He pockets the paper and quill and stands up from his seat. "Please keep Morgan out of trouble today."

"I'll try." I say. "Morgan is… well…"

"Willful?"

"Yeah."

"Just… try."

"I will." I smile. "I'll make sure she doesn't shank someone at least."

"Please do." Robin mutters.

###

"I forgot to give this to you yesterday." Is how I preface handing over the magic heating rock to Morgan. It's not even something I can activate myself, because it requires the barest shred of magic to do so and I don't have that. "Found it at the market, seemed like something you'd like. Not quite sure how useful it actually is."

I suppose I never described what the heating rock actually looks like. It's about the length of a pop can (or soda can for those of you that call it that), and looks like one of those smooth, ovular stones you can find on some beaches. It's light grey, with Tte only sign that it's in any way magic being a darker grey pattern on one side in the vague shape of a flame.

"Ooh!" Morgan grabs it out of my hand. "I presume it's a bit more than a rock?"

"Yeah, draw a circle on it with your finger and push."

Morgan does so, waits, and then her eyes light up. "It's warm! Woah…"

"Cool huh?"

"Yeah! This would have been really useful up in Ferox during the winter." Morgan says. "Coulda stuck this in my coat or bedroll to keep me warm. If we ever have to go back there I'll have to bring this!"

Yeah, it was ridiculous of me to be worried. This is Morgan. As much as we joke about it Morgan really doesn't have high standards, and I don't mean that as an insult. She can find interest or joy in just about anything, and I envy that.

"I guess this counts as my first birthday present ever, huh?" Morgan muses as she rolls the rock around in her hands. "A magic item as my first gift… you're setting the standard way too high Nathan."

Morgan, that's probably the cheapest magic item in the world. If anything, that's setting the bar low. Also, holy shit, that's right, her birthday is soon and I got her a fucking rock. Great job Nathan. At least she likes it, again, because she has low standards.

"You totally paid something like ten silver for this and got ripped off, didn't you?" Morgan says.

"Originally it was priced at five silver. I brought it down to two, and that's probably still more than the stone is worth." I say honestly. "But no. Not ten silver. Only two."

"Still overcharged. But that's better. You're not going to let me repay you for this are you?"

"It's a gift. If you effectively pay for it, that ruins the entire point." I huff.

"Fiiine." Morgan huffs. "Hey… didn't your birthday already pass by?"

"I mean, we hadn't even determined where my birthday would be until a little while ago." I say. "So that's sort of a moot point."

"Nope! Not gonna forget that! You can't make me!"

"Morgan…" I sigh fondly.

She pouts at me. "Whaaat? Don't you want a gift?"

"I really don't need one. We're close to your birthday, not mine." I say. I then poke her in the nose. "Besides, I have you. You're gift enough."

"Ooh…" A grin crosses her face. "So what would you say about unwrapping your-"

I clamp a hand over her mouth before she can finish that sentence, and her eyes twinkle with laughter at my probably flushed face. "Lewd. Fucking. Girl."

Morgan promptly sticks out her tongue and licks the inside of my hand, causing me to wrench it away in surprise. Her grin is wide enough to almost break her face. She flicks her tongue at me. "Cutie."

"Screw you." I mumble without any real anger.

"Exactly! That was the joke!" Morgan says. "And then you so rudely cut me off."

"Yeah yeah…"

"I hope you know you're adorable when you're embarrassed." Morgan teases. "And it only makes me want to do this more."

"I know." I say quietly. "I trust you to be reasonable."

"Of course!" Morgan says. "That goes without saying. I wouldn't want to scare off my own boyfriend, now would I?"

Scare me off? Yeah, fair enough. I've shown myself to be easily made nervous.

Morgan reaches forwards and squishes my cheeks. "Sooo cute."

"Morgaaan." I whine.

"Nathaaan." She parrots back my whine. "Deal with it! You always compliment me, so I get to compliment you for once!"

"But-"

"And for the last time, I'm not being sarcastic! It's called personal opinion Nathan!"

"Fine…" I mumble, and allow her to run her fingers through my hair. It feels unnatural to get compliments. Unnatural enough that I tend to think any compliment I do get is sarcastic, or actually intended as an insult. That's part of why I'm so nervous right now. Even if I know Morgan is being honest, the compliments still feel like something abnormal.

Hopefully I'll get used to it.

###

Despite all the things we could be doing, me and Morgan bum around for half the day. We do some training, play some chess and barrels, and I listen to Morgan chatter about Robin and how awesome he is and all the stuff you'd expect of someone who just found their father.

For the other half of the day we actually do some more notable things. For one, we shop, and I finally get some clothes that aren't brigand-like, and we both now have more than one set of clothes.

Because Morgan doesn't mind spending a bit of money (and she pointedly reminds me that she won't let me try to pay her back) we find a tailor that can use magic to dye clothes whatever color we want, so I get my hands on two sets of black clothes and change into one immediately. Black is my favourite colour, and I don't care how completely out-of-place it makes me look to have a straight black shirt and pants. New, dark leather boots and a belt help the look. What look this is I don't quite know, but it's a look.

I'm going to have to replace all these clothes when I get my old body back, but whatever. I feel so much more comfortable, not just because the clothes are of better quality than my furs but also because these clothes feel like something I'd wear back on Earth: simple, grey or black clothes with no fancy designs and some comfortable boots. The material is different, and so outwardly my clothes don't quite match Earth-like clothes just because of the texture difference, but it's close enough for me.

Morgan also gets something simple, but she goes with a muted grey-purple shirt with darker purple on the collar and cuffs and dark brown pants. She also went with short-sleeve shirts, whereas I went with long sleeves. Morgan's style is also much more appropriate for this world insofar as her pants are slightly baggy and her shirt has actual noticeable segments to it (the area around her chest is slightly baggy and noticeable lighter in color, with a hemline distinguishing that area from the tighter area under it that is much more generic and slightly darker, though still light overall) whereas the uniform pure black of my clothes obliterates any noticeable details unless you squint and look close.

After some thought, I also get some dark green clothes that will make me stand out less (like Gregor's clothes, not the armor, but mostly dark green) and Morgan also gets a generic beige dress in case she needs to blend in. I also grab some travelling clothes, because otherwise I'd be wearing my furs again and I'd rather not do that. Morgan doesn't need those. She likes her cloak just fine.

After buying all that, we go back to the barracks and finally start on trying to teach me to write Ylissian. The first thing we do in that vein is map each Ylissian letter to a sound, which has some interesting results.

"What do you mean it's two letters in your language?" Morgan frowns as she looks onto my page. "Wasn't that letter a "tuh" sound and that one a "hah" sound? So wouldn't combining those be "Tah" and not "thh"?"

"You'd think so, but no." Apparently we used to have a letter for the TH sound, it was called a thorn and looked like a b and p combined. One line with a small circle on one side of the middle. "That's just how our alphabet works."

"That seems really inconvenient. What if you actually need a "tah" sound?"

"Then spell i and not T H. Easy."

"It's still stupid."

"Just a little bit." I agree.

In the end we manage to hash out a translation page. Ylissian has two different letters for what we would cover in one vowel. So for what Earth covers under just the letter A, they have two letters for the "ah" and "ae" sounds respectively. They also don't have all the weird crossover sounds that English has between things like C and S where they can both have the hissing "sss" sound but C can also have the "cuh" sound (which K can also have for some reason, meaning C randomly crosses over with two otherwise unique letters and has no sound of it's own for basically no reason).

Language is weird, but the English alphabet is especially so.

Morgan looks utterly baffled when I explain how TION is pronounced "shun" and not "tee-on" and other odd nuances like that.

"How the heck do you remember all this?!" Morgan groans as she stares at the mess of exceptions and special cases I've written out. "Why is it so complicated?"

"You get used to it." I say with a smile. "I grew up with it, so it's nothing special to me. And it's complicated because it's a pretty old language that has changed a lot and spread over a wide and diverse geographic area, and the amalgamation of words and spellings borrowed from different cultures means that there are a bunch of arbitrary nuances built into the language both in terms of how things are pronounced and how they are spelt."

"Why does your language need four different ways to make the "cuh" sound!?"

"That's just how it is." Incidentally, she's referring to K, C, X (like in Box), and QU (like in queue).

"Are people in your world masochists? Is that it? Is that why your language makes no sense!?"

"There are also silent letters."

Morgan throws up her hands in exasperation. "Of course there are! Why wouldn't there be?! Thank Naga you're learning Ylissian and I'm not learning English!"

"Oh, by the way, try and pronounce this." I write down bologna on the paper.

"Bol-og-nah?"

"Bowl-oh-nee."

"What."

"Yep."

"Where does the E come from!?"

"I don't know."

"WHY!?"

"I don't know."

"Oh and…" I write down rough, though, cough, and through. "See how they all end in the same four letters?"

"Yeah."

"None of those rhyme."

Morgan buries her face in her hands and moans. "What the fuck is wrong with your langauge Nathan?"

"Oh, and "mie-noot" and and "min-ut" are spelt the same way."

"Stooop!"

It's a fun afternoon as I continue to regale Morgan with all the screwy things in English spelling.

###

Over the next few days we get a sense for what the Shepherds are going to be doing, and what that means for us.

The majority of the Shepherds are leaving for their homes for a few weeks, though they'll be back for Chrom and Maribelle's wedding. Kjelle wants to go with her mother, and Noire with hers. Nowi isn't going anywhere, so Nah is still around.

That leaves me, Morgan, and Nah still around to get Laurent… except it's not just us because some Shepherds are still here and don't mind coming along. Nowi for one, which means we have a second dragon, as well as Gregor and Gaius and Anna. Interestingly, Olivia is also staying here. Ylisstol is quite a ways away from Ferox, whereas Tharja's home isn't too far from the Ylissian border, so if Olivia were to leave for her home she wouldn't be back in time. The same goes for Lon'qu. All of them, despite being tired of fighting, are still willing to lend us a hand in fetching Laurent.

That gives us quite a squad: myself, Morgan, Nah, Nowi, Gregor, Gaius, Anna, Olivia, and Lon'qu. This also means we finally have a healer in Anna. We can also travel by cart rather than foot, which is faster because horses have much more stamina than we do even if they're not actually moving that much faster. They don't have to rest as often. It's only thanks to the cart that we can do this excursion in a decent time frame and be back for the wedding.

However, before we leave, a few things happen. First, Emmeryn calls for me and the future children. I might have explained everything to Chrom, but as the ruling Exalt of Ylisse I can see why Emmeryn would want to hear the story for herself rather than second-hand.

I've explained this multiple times to multiple people, and barring the fact that I'm explaining to Emmeryn it's the same tale as usual. The future kids give their version of things, and explain what the ruined future is like, and that's about it for the conversation.

Emmeryn is a lot more intimidating than I thought she'd be, though I think that might be because I know she's the Exalt. Maybe it's her status that's intimidating more than her personality, because even I can realize there isn't much that can be said to be scary about Emmeryn's personality.

The second major thing that happens is that we (me and the future kids) also need to explain everything to Emmeryn's council. That means Phila and some other military generals, representatives from the dukes, and other people I don't bother to keep track of because I honestly don't care. Thankfully Morgan carries most of the explanation because she's good at talking with people. She's heard my story enough times that she can explain most of it herself, with me filling in small details. We give the council a simplified version rather than shoving in all possible details like we did with Emmeryn.

I can see the poorly-hidden scoffs and disbelief on the faces of most of the councillors, and I'm not surprised. I don't have any information about them I can leverage to gain their trust. To them, even if they knew about my knowledge of the Shepherds, it could easily be dismissed as me having overheard secrets from one of the Shepherds or stolen some secret document rather than future-like game knowledge. There are other, simpler explanations for how I know what I know, and so they have no real reason to think I actually know the future.

The Shepherds can buy my explanation because my knowledge is far too varied in that it covers a lot of details that some of the Shepherds haven't even revealed yet, but the council probably isn't going to care about that distinction.

Oh, and I should also mention that I get Morgan to write the letter for Virion. That's sort of important.

After the nerve-wracking and mostly pointless endeavor of talking to the council, we finally leave to go get Laurent.

Our travel for the first day is rather quiet. The Shepherds are still recovering from their travel to a certain extent, so they're mostly quiet. Most people rest in one of the two carts we have (one is Anna's personal cart with all her wares) and don't talk all that much. The only exception is Nowi, who seems to have boundless energy and won't stop talking.

Nah is clearly tired of her mother already, though she has much more patience than their in-game supports would suggest and hasn't said anything rude yet. Or, at least, she hasn't said anything that the rest of us can hear. I suppose it would make sense for supports to mostly happen in private, or just not out in front of everyone.

But really nothing happens for most of the day. The only thing of note is a small argument between Morgan and Gregor about when we should stop, and Morgan wins out by asserting that she is in charge and having Me and Nah back her up.

That gets a few raised eyebrows from Gregor and Lon'qu, but they don't push the issue further. They're here to help us after all. I wonder if this would be different if it were a mission of the Shepherds rather than an informal mission they decided to help with. Would Gregor have tried to insist that Morgan wasn't in charge?

Either way, thankfully it's a non-issue this time around.

###

The Risen are relentless. They're not all that threatening, but they're relentless. I also finally have enough people around me that I really don't have to participate anymore. Having two manaketes also helps.

I still pull out my crossbow and take pot-shots of course. I'm still expected to help, and so I will, but I can feel safe that I don't have to be anywhere near our opponents anymore.

Interesting to note is that Morgan and Nah already seem to be on par with the Shepherds. Nah and Nowi's kill counts are about the same, and Morgan- there's no mage to compare against her admittedly- gets her fair share of kills as well.

Oh, and Olivia. I should talk about Olivia. So, in the game dancers work by giving other units another turn, right? It doesn't work like that here. Being a dancer here is something much more dangerous, but much more impressive.

Olivia fights. She doesn't stay in the back with the long-range fighters like you'd expect. She's right in the middle of battle along with Lon'qu and Gregor. The difference is that she's not fighting in a way that maximizes how much damage she does, she's fighting to impress. Twists, twirls, flips, and elegantly choreographed series of attacks are common.

Olivia is a proper battle dancer. She inspires others with feats of skill and the art of battle, not normal dancing like the game would suggest.

If anything, the way Olivia fights is most like what you see in the game. Gregor and Lon'qu are practical in how they fight, but Olivia shows off like she's in a play (which, considering she's a dancer, makes sense).

Olivia can also do normal dances though, and at an eager request from Morgan she demonstrates a few after we've set up camp for the night. Those dances are… erm… well they're very sensual, and that's only accentuated by Olivia's outfit.

Morgan watches raptly, not even making cheeky comments to me like she usually would. I guess she's too focused on her mother to bother with that.

I'll admit that while I enjoy Olivia's dances, I don't really know enough about dance to be able to appreciate what Olivia is doing on an artistic level. Her dances are enjoyable on the level of "attractive lady in skimpy clothing showing off her body" of course, but I feel disappointed in myself to only be able to appreciate the dances on that level… even if I realize the dances are (probably) intentionally designed to evoke that response and I'm no different than most people viewing the dance and not really doing anything wrong.

It's not a surprise when Morgan gushes about her mother that night. "Did you see that backflip!? She went right over that Risen's head! And then she did this cool twisting stabby thing, and her normal dances are great too! Her outfit is just perfect for those, not to mention her body is just mmm!"

"Morgan, this is your mother you're talking about."

"And?" She says defensively. "My mom is hot! Even I can recognize that!"

Those are words I never thought I'd hear.

"Are you saying you don't think my mom is hot Nathan?" Morgan teases.

"No comment."

"Don't think I didn't see you appreciating those hips too!"

"Ookay, and we're changing the subject…" I cough.

"Not until you admit my mom is hot!"

"Fine, she's hot." I groan. "Everyone is hot for some reason though! All the Shepherds, all the future kids, it's unnatural! I don't know what sort of magic this world has to make everyone ridiculously attractive, but I both appreciate and despise it!"

"Hard not to ogle some butts?"

I don't bother with my usual "lewd girl" comment and go straight to poking her in the nose. "No. I mean, yes, but screw you for getting me to admit that."

"Hey, no judgement here." Morgan chirps. "Not like I don't appreciate the uh… what's the term…?"

"Eye candy?"

"Yeah! I appreciate the eye-candy of being surrounded by some delicious young men and women." Morgan says with a wide, shameless grin. "Including my mother."

You're awful in the best way Morgan, and at this point I expect no less. "It really is unnatural, isn't it?"

"I know! I hope it never stops! I'm more than content if half the people we come across are some degree of ridiculously attractive." Morgan says cheerfully.

"It's also uncanny how close everyone is to their in-game portraits." I say. "I've recognized every Shepherd and future kid on sight so far, though there are some differences."

"Like what?"

"Well… not that this is going to mean much to you, but you look closer to your Heroes portrait than your Awakening one. Your outfit is the same as your Awakening one, but in terms of physical appearance you're closer to your Heroes portrait." That feels like an insufficient explanation. She has no idea of what either of those portraits look like beyond what they reference. "Not that the portraits are all that different in physical appearance, but your Heroes look has slightly softer features and less muted colours."

"So what I'm hearing is that I'm way more cute in my Heroes portrait."

"Yep. That portrait also tints your hair and eyes purple though."

"But my hair and eyes are purple." Morgan says.

I pause. "They are?"

"Yeah."

"They both look dark brown or grey to me."

"It's hard to see." Morgan says. "Here, look close. Really close."

And so I do. Morgan holds up the lantern so I can see and I lean in until our noses bump. I squint, trying to see the purple hidden in the grey (definitely grey and not brown) and after a minute of trying, I think I can see what she means. It's hard to notice in her eyes normally, but when the light hits them just the right way and doesn't bounce off, you can in fact see a very faint trace of purple. Her eyes are an extremely muted shade of purple. Grey-purple you might say, with a heavy emphasis on grey.

"Okay." I say quietly. "I see it. That is hard to see."

"Isn't it? I wish it was a bit more noticeable." Morgan says. "Nice purple hair. Or maybe dark purple, so dark it usually looks black, but when you shine a light on it my true colour would be revealed!"

"Very dramatic."

"Yeah! It would be awesome!" Morgan chirps. "Oh, oh, what outfit was I wearing in my Heroes portrait? You said the outfit was different, right?"

"Yeah, it's more like a dark flier outfit."

"Cool! What does that look like?"

Right. We haven't seen one of those yet. "Well, at least in your case you still had something like your cloak except it was much tighter all around, probably to reduce wind drag by being less baggy, and indeed at your upper thighs. It also had an area around the chest that looked a bit more like your shirt than your cloak. Uh… you have these cage-like arm-guards, dangling shields on your hips, same boots, and what I assume are thick stockings that come up just past your knees but don't meet the bottom of your coat/dress thing."

"You remember this in surprising detail." Morgan says with an amused grin. "Was I your faaavourite?"

"No." I say honestly. "But I liked the look. Purple and black has always been a nice color scheme, and your coat has always been cool."

"I'm your girlfriend Nathan! You're supposed to say I was your favourite!" She pouts.

"Oh really now?" I say, and raise an eyebrow. "Does that make me a bad boyfriend?"

"Yes! Terrible, awful, deal-breakingly bad!" Morgan announces. "I wasn't your favorite in some random game before you ever met me and that's without consideration for what I did in that game as well. How could I not be offended?"

"I have no idea. What a massive oversight on my part." I say flatly. "Pardon my inexcusable lack of future vision and instinctive desire to lie in order to keep you satisfied."

"You are not pardoned. I'm furious. Really, truly." Morgan says with no hint of anger in her voice whatsoever. "Because I'm the best, and you're required to think I'm the best at everything, in everything, all the time, regardless of any other so-called 'legitimate' reasons otherwise."

"Of course, of course." I say, and pat her on the head. "I'll strive to be the most servile, pandering person on the planet to feed your ever-inflating ego."

"Damn straight!" Morgan says with a smile. "It's not like you feed my ego enough already."

"Not nearly enough." I smile back. "I've been too busy stopping you from rolling into fires."

Morgan's entire body slumps like a balloon that just got a hole poked in it. "I thought we were past that joke."

"What joke? I was mostly serious about that." I say. "I didn't keep putting logs and rocks between you and campfires for no reason."

"Rub it in why don't you?" Morgan pouts.

I plant my hand on her forehead and rub circles into it. "Done."

"Nathaaan." She whines.

"Morgaaan."

"Stooop."

"Nooo." I grin. "Make me."

So quickly that she had to have been waiting for those exact words, Morgan tackles me and knocks me onto my back, and then triumphantly sits on my chest. "There. I made you."

"No, you're just sitting on me."

"Oh?" A mischievous glint enters her eye. "Do I need to do more?"

"Uhh…" Where do I go from here? Is this still part of the joke? I suddenly feel out of my depth. "No?"

Morgan pauses, then tilts her head. "Nervous?"

"Yes?" I say. My voice cracks with that one, so I repeat it, and with more certainty this time. "Yes."

"Do you want me to get off?" She asks outright. Her voice is calm, and I have to wonder if that's intentionally so.

Do I? No, not really. "No."

"Cool." Morgan says. Her hands creep over my chest and shoulders and press against me in what feels like a massage. I'm struck by the feeling that I should be doing something, but I have no idea what that would be. "Because I like this."

"Ah."

"You have that expression on your face that says you're thinking too hard about something."

"I feel like I should be doing something." I admit.

"Don't worry about it." Morgan says. "Relax…"

I try, I really do, but it's hard not to be acutely aware of the girl sitting on top of me. Morgan continues to explore me with her hands, running them over my arms and chest and shoulders before eventually moving on to my neck, for which she greatly softens her touch.

Do you know the reason people are ticklish in certain areas? It's an evolutionary self-defence mechanism. The areas in which we are ticklish are the areas in which we are extremely vulnerable, and being ticklish teaches us to defend those areas.

I bring this up because Morgan feeling my neck is actually quite uncomfortable. I can't help but be twitchy because I'm ticklish, and so Morgan quickly moves on.

"You're going to be different, eventually." Morgan murmurs as her hands explore my face. "When you get your body back, I'm going to have to learn you all over again."

Learn me? That's an interesting way to phrase it. Also, I never really considered how strange it's going to be for Morgan to see me change. It's not like I'm just going to be growing, I'm just going to change, drastically. My eyes will no longer be brown and will be blue, my hair will become brown rather than black, I'll be caucasian rather than vaguely asian. Everything will change. It will be a return to normal for me, but for Morgan what she sees now is normal.

"I'm not sure I can handle it if you get even more cute." Morgan teases gently as she runs her fingers through my hair.

"You're setting your expectations way too high." I mumble.

"I'm mostly joking." Morgan reassures. "I don't care if you end up being ugly Nathan. That's not why I like you. Your cute face certainly is a bonus, but it's hardly essential."

That's reassuring to hear, even if I knew it was never really in question.

The night ends on that note. Morgan spends a few more minutes running her hands over me, but she eventually stops and we call it a night.

I wonder how much intimacy Morgan is actually comfortable with, because she was totally fine with whatever that was. How much does she hold back? Am I being a bad partner due to my nervousness?

That… no. That sounds like something Morgan would mention. Morgan seems happy, and there's no need to worry unnecessarily.

###

You know, considering all manaketes in Awakening are of the divine dragon tribe, it makes sense that Manaketes would be revered in Ylisse. This goes especially considering Tiki is a manakete and she's an important religious figurehead.

That's why it's a big shock to me to find out most villagers are pretty freaked out by our two little dragon girls. I was expecting awe, not terror.

To be fair to the villagers, they were scrambling away from a Risen pack at the time, and their introduction to Nowi and Nah was the two of them flying directly overhead, roaring loudly, and spitting dragonfire. I can't blame them for being a bit shook.

"Johnny, come here!" The short-haired woman hisses, desperately beckoning for the small boy who wandered too close to our group. "Johnny!"

The little boy stops his waddling and turns to his mother, and then waddles back towards her outstretched arms. The woman shoots us a glare, specifically Nah, before yanking her child inside their house.

There was no thanks for saving this town. No gratitude from anyone, even though everyone here would have absolutely been slaughtered without us, and especially without Nah and Nowi.

I guess this had to happen at some point. The chance of us running into only grateful people all the time is statistically improbable.

"I don't think anyone is going to want to play with me." Nowi notes. Wherever she turns her eyes, people look away and shrink back into or behind buildings and trees and whatnot.

"Gregor will be playing with Nowi." Gregor says. He sounds almost offended that he's been forgotten about. "Is always having time for little dragon friend!"

"I wasn't talking about you silly." Nowi sighs. "I mean no one from the village is going to want to play. I'm not going to have any new friends to play with."

"Oh, Nowi talking about scared mean villagers." Gregor says. "Is unfortunate. Gregor is used to this. Some people only see sword, and does not matter to them where sword is pointed. They do not see Gregor at all. Same with Nowi. Villagers see dragon, not girl, not Nowi."

"Yeah…" Nowi sighs. "Do we have to stay here? Can we leave?"

"We'd have to camp Mother." Nah points out. "And we'd be eating from our supplies rather than fresh food."

"I know." Nowi says with a frown. "But I don't want to stay here."

"Don't be selfish, Mother." Nah scolds.

"No, I agree with Nowi." I say. "We shouldn't stay here."

"Stay out Nathan." Nah says sharply.

"You made this a group matter when you started deciding whether all of us were staying or going, and I'm a part of the group." I shoot back. I raise my voice to involve everyone else. "Opinions?"

"We leave." Lon'qu agrees.

"Gregor is seeing no problem with this."

"I-I guess we can." Olivia murmurs.

"I'd rather stay, I want to sell some wares." Anna says. "But it's no huge loss if we don't."

"No opinion." Gaius says. "Don't see any candy."

"I say we leave." Morgan chirps. "And I think the vote is soundly in favor of leaving, so let's get what we need and get out."

Nah's expression darkens a bit, and she stays quiet as we go about purchasing supplies from nervous store-owners and leave before we've spent more than an hour and a half in the village. I figure that's mostly the end of the issue, so when Nah approaches me after dinner when Morgan has stepped away to bathe I'm more than a little surprised.

"You." Nah says.

I look up from the new crossbow bolt I'm making. Virion taught me how to improvise stone heads for arrows, and rather than the wooden ones I've been using so far I want to try those so I'm trying to apply those lessons to my bolts. So far, no luck. I think I'm going to have to just custom order iron bolts when we get back to Ylisstol. "I have a name, or have you forgotten? I can call you "dragon loli" from now if you really don't want to use names."

Nah's eyes narrow. "I don't want to know what that means, and that sounded like a threat."

"Sorta was." I say calmly. "So, are we using names or not?"

"Fine, Nathan." Nah says in irritation.

"Nah." I nod. "So, what's up?"

"Don't encourage my mother's behaviour." Nah says bluntly. "The reason we're sitting out here in a forest is because you made it a group debate and implied we should leave because Mother wanted to."

Strictly speaking Nowi made it a group matter, and I just brought it to everyone's attention, but that's neither here nor there at the moment. "And? How is that a problem?"

Nah points a finger accusingly. "Because the whole group folded to my Mother being petty because you enabled her!"

"I'm fairly sure that was going to happen either way." I say, trying to keep my calm. Nah seems unreasonably upset about this. "I'm fairly sure Gregor was going to agree that we leave one way or another, I simply said it before him."

"You don't know that, and it doesn't remove the fact that you started it." Nah insists.

"That's true." I agree. "But this is really a moot point. The only thing I 'enabled' was getting Nowi and you out of a situation where you would have been uncomfortable."

"I didn't ask you to do that." Nah snaps. "I didn't ask to be saved."

That's not exactly what I intended but in hindsight, yeah, I suppose "saving" them was sort of what I was trying to do. I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing like Nah is implying it is though. "Perhaps not, but Nowi wanted out, so we left. It would have been the same if Gregor didn't want to be around there, or Morgan. Unless there's a good reason for us to stay among rude people, why would we?"

"Because that's a petty reason to leave!" Nah insists.

"Really now?" I say, and cross my arms. "Nah, who would you consider your friend?"

"What does that have to do with this?"

"I'm trying to make a point through example." I say honestly. "So, who would you consider a friend?"

"Laurent."

Not what I was expecting, but okay. I thought it would be Gerome or Lucina to be honest, just because they're overly-serious like Nah. I can work with this though. It doesn't really matter who she chose. "Okay, so, let's say you're in a bar."

"I don't drink."

Neither do I. Yay sober crew. "That's fine, but you're in a bar."

"Okay…?"

"You're sitting at a table with Laurent."

"R-Right."

Why does she look nervous about this? It's just an example. "So you're both sitting there, and then you notice someone, some asshole, is glaring at you from across the room."

Nah nods.

"Not just once, continuously."

She nods again.

"And when you mention you're uncomfortable, Laurent tells you to suck it up."

Nah instantly protests with an anger that, again, seems strangely out of place. "He wouldn't do that!"

"But you would."

"No I wouldn't!"

"You just did not an hour ago."

"I did not!"

"Nah, your mother was uncomfortable with people glaring at her, and your response was to tell her that she was being selfish." I say, still trying to keep my voice calm. "So, again, that's exactly what you were doing."

"It's different!"

"Why? Because it's your mother?" I ask.

"No, because it involves the group." Nah stresses. "And we can't drag down the whole group for the sake of one member."

"And why not?" I counter. "Our mission isn't that time sensitive, it's only a minor inconvenience, and none of us really liked the villagers anyways."

"That doesn't matter. Personal issues shouldn't affect the group." Nah insists.

"Yes, they should." I argue back. "At least, when the group can afford them to. If we desperately needed rest in decent beds from ages spent camping, sure, I'd agree that we should have pushed past Nowi's discomfort for the group's benefit. However, if we ignore personal issues even when we can easily afford to help with them, what we're establishing is that our individual members don't matter, and I don't think any of us agree with that."

"I never said individuals didn't matter!"

"But their problems don't?"

"No!" Nah stops her foot. "It- but- it shouldn't get in the way of more pressing matters, and it shouldn't be made into the group's problem!"

"I agree, to an extent. It absolutely shouldn't get in the way of more pressing matters, no question asked. We wouldn't prioritize Nowi's discomfort over saving someone's life, obviously. And as for it being made into the group's problem… well that depends on the size of the group I think, as well as if the members of the group want it to be their problem."

"What in Naga's name are you talking about?" Nah frowns.

"If we were a whole battalion, a few hundred people, then yeah, we couldn't really afford to move everyone just because of Nowi's discomfort." I say. "But, imagine it was just two people. You and your mother. Would you really force her to stay there just because you want to stay?"

"Well no…"

"And there's my point. We're at a small enough group size that we can afford to do these sorts of things." I say. "Also, in case you haven't noticed, most people are some degree of friends here, and so far they've generally seemed happy to take on other people's problems, so even if you wanted to argue our group is too large to take into account individual problems it's still a moot point."

Nah crosses her arms. "That doesn't mean Mother should have tried to make her problem into the group's problem."

I raise an eyebrow. "I thought I was the one who made it a group problem. Also, she didn't. She just said she wanted to leave, and the rest of us agreed. Would you rather people say nothing when they're uncomfortable or having trouble?"

"Yes."

I… uh… how am I supposed to respond to that? That was supposed to be a rhetorical question. Okay then. Let's try this. "So if I'm bleeding out, I should say nothing?"

"Don't be absurd. I mean personal problems. Injury and death are group issues." Nah scoffs.

Yeah, fair point. That was a stupid suggestion. Think Nathan. You know how to dissect arguments. You can find something wrong with her idea. That was basically the goal of all your philosophy assignments for four years: finding the problems with arguments. This should be easy. "How about, even if I'm being harassed at every turn, if it would bring down the group I should stay silent?"

"Yes."

Okay then. "What reason do I have to stay a part of the group then?"

"...what?"

"If the group won't support me when I need it, why should I be a part of the group?"

"Because the group has a bigger purpose than individual issues."

"And?"

"What do you mean, "and?"?"

"If the group is big enough that I don't matter, then it's big enough that me leaving for the sake of my own health doesn't matter." I say. "Even the loss of a dragon is a lot less relevant when they're only equivalent to a hundred soldiers in a group of ten-thousand."

"If that's the case then the greater goal must not matter to you very much." Nah retorts.

"Not so. It's just that I can't very well be expected to deal with bigger issues when my personal issues are too great for me to deal with."

"That's called a lack of conviction, not incapability." she scoffs.

"So what?" I ask in frustration. "You'd have people allow their personal and internal lives to fall to shambles just so they can contribute a statistically insignificant amount to some greater cause?"

"Yes!" Nah says in exasperation.

"What sort of callous disregard for people's health do you have?" I ask in obvious disgust.

"What sort of death wish do you have?" Nah counters. "The end of the world is coming, and you're worried about mental health and individual lives? Everyone is going to die if we aren't prepared!"

Both of us glare at each other for a solid ten seconds. This conversation has also been going on long enough that Morgan returns, and since she's not blind she can see the tension in the air between us and speaks up. "What happened?"

"He's being ridiculous." Nah huffs.

"She's being callous." I say quietly.

"Right…" Morgan says slowly. "So let's start from the top, shall we?"

We quickly run through our argument again. I think Nah is going along with this because she expects Morgan to agree with her, though the same could be said of me. We're effectively letting Morgan decide a winner here… though I have to say that if Morgan agrees with Nah and really does have so little consideration for the lives of others, I'm going to… I… we'll have to talk.

"Okay." Morgan frowns. "So, let me get this straight. You both decided that personal issues are occasionally relevant provided a group is small enough, or that the group as a whole makes a personal problem all of their problems."

"Yes." Me and Nah both say, though Nah with more reluctance. I don't think she's happy about me winning that point.

"And now the argument is about whether someone has a right to mention their personal problems to the group at all."

"Yes." I say.

"No." Nah says.

Me and Nah stare at each other again, and I gesture with a hand. "By all means, explain. We're apparently not on the same page."

"We were arguing over trying to make personal problems a group issue." Nah says.

"But you said if I was constantly being harassed that I shouldn't bring it up."

"Yeah, don't try and push your problems onto the group."

"So I shouldn't mention my problems at all."

"No, that's not it."

I massage my forehead. "I don't get it. What's the distinction here?"

"It's fine to bring it up, but don't try and make it a group issue. It's your problem, not the group's. If they make it their issue, fine, but it's not your place to choose." Nah asserts.

Oh. Okay. So it's not a matter of literally never mentioning that you have problems, it's a matter of not forcing other people to deal with them for you. "That's… fairly reasonable." I say. I could add on side notes that personal health is still important, and that you should be able to expect a certain amount of support from your companions, but for the sake of not hashing out every little detail of our debate I think I'll keep my mouth shut about it. "I can more-or-less agree with that."

"So we're good?" Morgan asks.

"I guess." Nah grumbles.

"Cool." Morgan grabs me by the arm. "Because I'm taking him back now."

"Take him. I don't want him." Nah says. She walks away without another word.

"Well." Morgan says after a moment. "Are you alright?"

"I'm annoyed." I say honestly. "I'll be fine in a bit."

"So what I'm hearing is that you need a hug."

Thank you, Morgan, for your endless affection. "I certainly won't argue with one."

###

In every town we cross, we ask if anyone has seen Laurent (specifically we ask if they've seen a studious mage with glasses pass though). Most of the time, that's a no. However we know he's heading towards the Ylissian desert, so it should only be a matter of time before we find him because there's only so many places around the desert he could be.

Of course, we do technically have a time limit. We have to be back in time for Chrom's wedding (you know, now that I think of it, one month to set up a royal wedding seems like a very short amount of time). But we know Laurent really isn't going anywhere and isn't in any pressing danger.

I think part of the reason we don't have any leads about Laurent is because most people we talk to are assholes. It's unusual, actually. For some reason this part of the country has a high concentration of utter douchebags. That whole ordeal with the villagers not liking Nowi or Nah? That's pretty common now. Heck, most of us are getting scornful looks, not just the manaketes.

I ask Morgan about it and she can only shrug. She has no idea what's going on. It's Anna who I get my answer from after yet another instance of scorn from random villagers we just helped out. I grumble about the problem, and Anna speaks up.

"That's normal for deep Ylisse." Anna says. "You'd be hard pressed to find any group of people more certain that Ylisse is the best and every other country sucks than deep Ylissians… maybe because they're never personally interacted with any other culture. It's not like Ylisse has an easter neighbour, and immigrants tend to end up in northern Ylisse, so deep Ylisse, which is the south-eastern part of Ylisse past Ylisstol, is about as homogenous as you can get. Some people would include all of eastern Ylisse in that categorization because the Bay of Silver tends to funnel all Feroxi immigrants or travellers to the west, but it's the most pronounced down here."

"Oh." I blink. "How do you know all this?"

"I'm a merchant." Anna says simply. "I travel, I talk, I listen. You learn a lot that way. It's vital I know the culture of the place in which I'm setting up shop, and I've been here before. So anyhow. Everyone in our group is rather obviously a foreigner or not even human, and that's probably why no one wants to deal with us."

"Let me guess." I say. "This part of the country is also very traditionalist, aren't they?"

"Yep."

So this part of the country is stereotyped as xenophobic conservatives? What a lovely picture Anna paints. Unfortunately, on this trip I've seen nothing to indicate that stereotype isn't true.

Though I suppose Donnel is from deep Ylisse (if I remember his paralogue placement correctly) and he's perfectly nice. I expect what Anna says is mostly true, but only mostly. Trends and patterns and cultures exist, and I won't pretend they don't, but that's no reason not to give new people a chance, even if I'm expecting disappointment.

What's the saying? Hope for the best, expect the worst? Something like that. I wonder what other stereotypes exist in this world. Are they similar to the ones from Earth? The xenophobic conservative culture is certainly a familiar stereotype. I'm not interested in taking any stereotypes to heart obviously, I'm just curious about which ones exist.

"Of course, you also get people like Donnel." Anna adds, almost as if reading my earlier thoughts. "Where their separation from the rest of the world just makes them enthusiastic to see it when they get the chance. There's been towns down here where I've been welcomed and badgered non-stop about every little thing the locals find interesting. It's exhausting."

"But it's easy to sell stuff to those folks, isn't it?"

"You bet it is!" Anna says cheerfully. "As long as it's a foreign curiosity, they're all over it! I managed to sell a small pouch of Chon'sinese beans for three silver. Three silver for just a few beans! Can you imagine that?"

"What a complete rip off."

"Not so!" Anna says. "He offered three silver before I even gave a price, so of course I took it! I was only going to charge fifty copper, maybe a silver at most, but I wasn't going to pass up a chance to triple my expected gain!"

"If you say so."

"I do!"

###

Finding Laurent doesn't have some big event surrounding it. We don't find him in an abandoned temple, or have to wait for a month while he completes some obligations, or save him from slavers or grimleal. No. Instead we run into him halfway between towns. We turn a corner around a large, sandy rock, and bam: there he is. Simple as that.

We're just a few hours past the true start of the desert. There's been a bit more sand and a bit less foliage for a few days now, but we only got into proper sand-dunes and cactuses this morning.

Nah is the first to speak. "Laurent!"

"Nah." The boy replies, and nods to her. He seems relatively calm, whereas most of our group is rather surprised. "What brings you here?"

"Looking for you!" Nah says. "What are you doing out here Laurent?"

Hey now, he probably got dropped here not that long ago and has had to make his way across the country by foot.

"I am searching for the Goddess Staff, and have been for a while now." Laurent says, completely disproving what I was just thinking. "So far, I have had little success."

"Why were you wasting time on that?" Nah asks in frustration. "Why weren't you heading to Ylisstol or trying to find us?"

"With the Plegian war coming to a close, I figured I had much time before the Valmese war, and so I decided to make myself useful and attempt to locate the Goddess Staff. It would be an invaluable aid against Grima, and there is enough evidence to suggest that it does indeed exist that I considered locating it a valid endeavor." Laurent explains.

"More important than finding the rest of us?" Nah huffs.

"I did not consider it possible to locate you considering I was unaware of your locations and the fact that there was such a large area to cover." Laurent admits. "Pray tell, how did you know where to find me? Is there some methodology or information of which I am unaware?"

"That would be because of me." I say, and extend a hand. "Nathan. Nice to meet you."

Laurent mimics the action and shakes. "Laurent, likewise. Now what is it that you have done that could locate me?"

"I have outside knowledge." I say. "I know roughly where all you future children are."

"So you are aware of our situation? Did Nah inform you of it?"

"No. Again, I have outside information." I then give him the short version of my situation. Laurent takes it rather well all things considered. He's not nearly as outwardly surprised or distrustful as the others were, he seems more curious than anything.

"Fascinating…" Laurent murmurs. "You must tell me more of this at a later time."

"Sure."

Morgan cuts into our conversation. "Chrom's wedding is in a few weeks, and we came here to get you, so you'll come back with us right?"

"It would be rude of me to refuse after you have come all this way, and my investigation has thus far not born fruit, so yes, I shall." Laurent agrees.

"If the game is accurate, then the Goddess Staff is indeed something you can find." I offer. "Though it's very particular, and I'm not sure how well the game information translates to an actual location."

"Interesting…" Laurent murmurs. "Perhaps I shall continue my investigation at a later date then, if it is not as fruitless as it seems. Incidentally, am I the second of us time-travellers you have located besides Nah?"

"Nope. You're the fifth." I say. "We've got Noire, Nah, Kjelle, Morgan here, and then you. Not in that order. Morgan was first."

"Morgan?" Laurent frowns. "That name is not familiar."

"Hi! I'm Morgan!" Morgan says cheerful. "I'm objectively the best person ever!"

"I do not think you know what the word "objectively" means…"

"No I do."

"She's a special case. An amnesiac, and different dimension than the rest of you." I explain. "Well, probably. The game makes it uncertain."

"How curious. So many mysteries to unpack." Laurent muses. "Greetings to you Morgan, I hope for your cooperation in the future."

"I should be saying that to you. I'm in charge!" Morgan says cheerfully. "Because I'm a tactician, and a leader, and a genius."

"Not to mention humble." I add.

"Humble as they come! I'm also super cute, and charismatic, and-"

"Perhaps we can move on?" Lon'qu interrupts, unamused by Morgan's self-complimenting. "I do not wish to stay in the desert longer than I must. It is far too hot here."

He must have hated Plegia then. Also yeah, let's bail. I have no desire to sweat like a pig, and I don't have a nice wide-brimmed hat to shade me like Laurent does.

###

Laurent asks a lot of questions. How did the game work? How did the developers choose what to put in? How did they know about this world? What discrepancies have I noticed so far? How did the 3DS work? What does the subtitle "Awakening" mean? Why does the game start at Southtown with Robin? Why is the game vague with certain information? Why does it have minor variance in outcomes? What outcomes can be trusted?

All of those questions and dozens more are what I try to answer on our way back to Ylisstol. Every day Laurent has a whole new slew of inquiries regarding something about the game or my knowledge of this world. Unfortunately, I don't think my answers are very good. Most of the time I'm giving some variety of "I don't know, but this is my guess" which is… subpar. Laurent seems fine with it, but I still feel like I'm giving insufficient information.

I worry for when Laurent will start to ask about my world in general. He's going to have an infinite amount of questions.

Morgan handles Laurent's questions much more gracefully than I do, or maybe she just enjoys the sound of her own voice. Probably both. Laurent also has a lot fewer questions for Morgan.

Laurent is surprisingly social with the rest of the group beyond the little corner of future children and me. He converses with Nowi about the power of dragons, Olivia about the applications of and skills involved in dance, Lon'qu about swordsmanship, and so on. He's also always inquiring about our health (I think I remember in some of his supports that he made it his business to make sure everyone in the Shepherds was taken care of).

Laurent is also a bit of a tactician himself, and so he provides a much more significant challenge for Morgan when we teach him chess than I ever could. It's sad on my part how quickly Laurent surpasses me. I suppose I just don't have any skill for the game… or Laurent just happens to have a knack for it.

Either way, Morgan has someone else to play with. Maybe I should consider making Morgan her own copy of chess.

Nah is also very interested in Laurent… I think. It's unclear. She talks to him frequently enough, but their conversations swing wildly between Nah teasing him, being annoyed at something, Laurent asking about dragon things or what she's noticed about the world so far, or them having actual normal conversations. Nah's attitude is all over the place, but Laurent is always calm.

Weird. Something tells me they have history.

Now we have all the kids from Ferox and Ylisse. All the kids from the relatively safe places. The rest are in Valentia or the west end of Plegia. Virion will hopefully handle the Valentian kids, so now it's just a matter of getting the ones from Plegia… somehow.

Chapter Text

So, a royal wedding. That sounds cool you might think. Fancy decorations everywhere, a massive ceremony, probably a parade, lots of food and drink, good stuff.

Well you're wrong, it's tedious, boring, and it sucks. I don't know about you, but doing nothing but standing around for hours on end is not what I'd call enjoyable. Because this is a super important royal wedding, it starts the moment the tip of the sun can be seen on the horizon. We can't really skip any of the boring parts either. I mean, we could, but it would be rude.

Those straight black clothes I bought are coming in handy, because they're the closest thing I have to formal clothes. Folding the sleeves of my shirt a bit gives them the impression of being cuffs, and a belt helps me look less monotone.

Stahl, being the nice person he is, apparently realized I didn't have anything else and lent me a spare vest when I came down for breakfast. He actually offered a few more noble-looking things like bulky, puffy shirts and all that (apparently he had to get these when he became a knight as was expected to attend some high-class events) but I took a dark-green vest. Maybe it's not very accurate to the times, but fuck it, I'll take my more Earthly fashion sense thank you very much.

Most of the Ylissian Shepherds have to rush out early after breakfast. They're actually a part of the ceremonies. Robin is also a part of this group, so after recounting the schedule to Morgan and I (we only returned yesterday) he has to leave.

Morgan is lucky by the way, she can wear her coat.

The morning is dedicated to religious stuff for the most part, probably to get it out of the way for the more fun events later (assuming there are any, now that I think about it). There's a two-hour long ceremony (one of many around the city) being held by some bishop about how Naga has blessed the royal family and indeed the entire country and we should all feel blessed about this and bla bla bla, standard religious bullshit. I doubt Naga had anything to do with this. She doesn't have that much power to spare.

Honestly the religious stuff is kind of interesting in a roundabout way. There's a bunch of curious lines the bishop says that grab my attention. He talks about the "purifying power of marriage" which is not something I've ever heard of before. I'm aware of the whole "love redeems" idea, where being loved and loving in return makes you a better person, but the "purifying power" of marriage is an interesting way to phrase it. The bishop also ascribes terms to both Chrom and Maribelle that make me raise an eyebrow. He constantly calls Maribelle "pure" or even "chaste" which is really weird considering she's a Shepherd, and therefore has certainly seen combat and is by no means innocent nor pure, and she's getting married, and that usually involves a certain amount of… uh… unchaste actions in the near future. Chrom is more generic. Strong, brave, noble, pious, all that stuff. Pious is a weird one, that's not usually what I hear ascribed to Chrom. You can also really hear traditional gender roles being pushed in this speech, and he repeats it over and over and over, and praises Naga time and again, and keeps talking about how Naga has ordained this rather than, you know, it being any choice of Chrom or Maribelle's.

Whatever man. Religion is going to do it's thing. There's a reason I usually don't pay attention to it, though maybe I'll look into it more in this world just to see what's up and how it shapes the world around me.

Me and Morgan spend half the speech quietly making fun of the various things the bishop says, and the other half is me explaining to her what little I remember about Earth's religions.

Don't get me wrong, it's still boring. Morgan makes it slightly less boring, but it's still boring overall.

The next part of this whole ordeal happens at noon. There is indeed a parade, and I think it must have been scheduled for noon so the sun could be at its zenith for maximum aesthetic effect.

By virtue of us being… Shepherds? Are we technically Shepherds now? Whatever, we get a viewing spot with the rest of the Shepherds who aren't part of the parade themselves. We get to see the parade right as it starts, which means we also get to leave sooner than everyone else after the parade has past us.

We're still there for a long time. There was no expense spared in making this a huge ordeal. What's interesting is that this is very a military parade, despite Emmeryn being the Exalt. I suppose it is more fitting for Chrom, and I honestly have no idea what else would be done for a royal wedding parade. A military procession just works.

I spot a familiar face when the pegasus corps fly by. All the pegasus knights have gold armor, which if I remember correctly designates all of them as squad leaders of some sort. Among them is Vanna, the leader of the squad we ran into along our way to Ylisstol. She doesn't see us of course, we're two faces among thousands, but it's still cool to notice her.

Notably, Cordelia and Sumia are not in the group of pegasus knights. Phila is leading them, but those two aren't there.

That's because they're close to Chrom and Maribelle. The Shepherds get a prime spot in the parade as Chrom and Maribelle's personal guards. Cordelia and Sumia fly overtop, Stahl and Sully flank the carriage, Frederick is naturally in the back so he can see everything, and Robin is up front. He changed since we last saw him. He's wearing his grandmaster outfit, complete with shining silver armor.

"Father has got to be boiling in that." Morgan whispers. "Armor, cloak, and midday sun?"

"Poor guy." I agree. I'm already feeling hot, and we have a nice shaded spot right outside the castle gate. "Is there a spell to stop heat stroke?"

"I hope so." Morgan murmurs.

"There is." Laurent reassures. "I would expect an enchantment to have been cast over him and most of the procession before this began, fear not."

"Cool. You gotta teach me that some time!"

"If you so wish, I may be able to spare the time."

"Yay!"

While mildly impressive, the parade is also really noisy with all the cheering and I'm glad when the tail end is out of sight and we can leave.

As mostly-irrelevant guests, me and Morgan get breaks as we wait for the next thing to happen. By that I mean we get to eat lunch (at, like, two-thirty in the afternoon) and Morgan regales me with all the overly-flamboyant outfits she noticed on other people in the crowd.

"He had, like, five layers on." Morgan says and pulls on her coat as a sort of visual aid. "And he was in direct sunlight, and he was sweating like a pig! You could actually see the stains growing as the parade went on!"

"Ew. Wait, I thought you said he had five layers. You could see the stains on the outermost layer?"

"Yep!"

"That's disgusting."

"I know!" Morgan says cheerfully. "There was also this woman with this huge dress. I mean, no one could stand within half a meter of her. It was all blue and green and intricate. Actually a nice dress and all, but much better suited for a party or a ball than standing out in the sun. At least she had an equally huge huge hat to block the sun. Oh, and the hat had some massive feathers! They totally had to be fake!"

"Maybe they're roc feathers."

"What's a roc?"

"Maybe rocs don't exist then…"

"Tell me what they are!"

"Giant eagles… I think they're eagles. Some bird of prey that's the size of a manakete." I say. "Big bird. I'm thinking too much of D&D."

"I dunno, maybe those exist." Morgan says. "But it doesn't ring a bell."

"Probably doesn't exist then." I mutter.

"Oh, oh, I also saw this lady with a huge ass!"

Of course she'd notice that. "I believe that's called a bustle Morgan."

"Say what?"

"A bustle. It's to support a dress so it doesn't drag along the ground. Usually you wear it on your lower back." I explain.

"Why do you know this?"

"Like I've said before, I know a lot of very random facts of questionable relevance." I say. "And by that I mean I've looked into older dresses before, and bustles were mentioned, so I investigated that too."

"Ah."

"Oh, and…" I poke her nose, like I usually do. "Lewd girl."

"Yeah yeah, what else is new?"

"Not you, because you're predictable." I tease.

Morgan gives an exaggerated gasp. "Me? Predictable? I'm a tactician! Being predictable means I can be analyzed and defeated! Being called predictable is an insult!"

"Is that how it works now?"

"It is!"

"Well then you better start changing it up." I say.

"Oh I will, and you'll regret it!"

"I look forward to it."

The actual wedding ceremony is something we can barely see from our spot way up in the rafters. It's big and fancy and there's a bunch of important-looking people there that get to sit right up front. It's fucking long. Three hours long in fact.

It's also hard to feel the gravity of the ceremony. I'm sure this is actually a huge deal with Chrom being royalty and Maribelle being nobility, shaking the political landscape and all that, but to me it's just two Shepherds getting married. It's cool I guess, but not earth-shattering.

I'm thankful me and Morgan are tucked away in a corner of the courtyard so we can entertain ourselves without bothering other people. I spend some of my time looking around for Lucina. Even if she's keeping herself hidden, this seems like something she'd want to see. It's her parents' wedding after all.

Of course I can't spot one person in this massive crowd, so I don't see Lucina anywhere. I imagine she's here though.

Just like this morning where we had to listen to boring religious stuff, there's a lot of that here too. More surprising to me is how Emmeryn is the one saying all of this. There's not some bishop or priest doing it. Judging by the murmuring of everyone when Emmeryn steps forward, I have the impression this isn't exactly standard.

When I bring this up to Morgan, it's Laurent who answers again. "Indeed you are correct. Under normal circumstances one would expect high-ranking clergy to oversee such an important ceremony. The Exalt does qualify, but only on technicality of the royal family being seen as favored by Naga and through that holding religious ranks. According to what I know from history books, it is not standard for the royal family to use those ranks in any major capacity, as it would be seen as attempting to expand the power of the crown to areas the church controls. It is not so much of a gaff as Lady Emmeryn was clergy herself in her youth, but Emmeryn is indeed still breaking a social norm and stepping on the toes of the church by doing this."

Interesting. I have to wonder if there's something political behind the decision, or if it was simply a request by Chrom and/or Maribelle. I should have guessed that the highest levels of Ylissian society would be rife with political maneuvering.

You know the drill from then on. Walk down the aisle, stand at alter, vows, cheering, I think Frederick and Lissa are crying. Exactly what you'd expect from a wedding. I do my part and clap when needed. I didn't notice before, but Vaike and Robin are also down there standing behind Chrom along with Frederick, and Maribelle has Lissa (obviously), Sumia, and some older woman I don't recognize.

So that's all well and good, but none of it was particularly interesting to me. Talking to Morgan was more interesting than what was actually happening around us for the most part. That's aside from, of course, this last thing.

The afterparty.

"I wasn't even aware we were going to be able to go." I say when Robin locates us and tells us we're going.

"It's at my discretion." Robin says. "I'm going of course, and I can bring guests. Inviting Morgan was a given, and seeing as all the other Shepherds and future children are going, it would be rude to leave you out."

So basically I'm allowed to go by being associated with Morgan, because let's be real, if I wasn't close with Morgan I wouldn't be coming even if Robin claims it's just because I'm part of the future kid group. I'm only allowed to come because Morgan probably wouldn't if I wasn't (because she's way more attached to me than I deserve).

Or maybe that's my cynicism speaking and it doesn't matter how close I am to Morgan. I do tend to assume everything that's going well for me is because of Morgan. How could I not? I got this far almost purely by relying on her help.

And that's how me and Morgan got thrust into a party with a bunch of very important people with no guidance aside from Robin saying "please don't stab anyone or make them hate you, anything you two do affects my reputation".

Honestly, knowing Morgan and what she's done before, that's probably a necessary warning.

I'd be perfectly content to tuck away in a corner until dinner happens, but Morgan is curious. "I wonder what people talk about at these sorts of parties. We should listen in! This is a great chance to learn and make connections!"

"Why do we need connections?" I ask.

"Why not? Also, we can exploit them."

"You're going to get a load of connections with that attitude." I snort.

"Yep." Morgan says. "I will, because I've got a winning personality and a face so cute they won't mind being exploited!"

"Right…"

"I'm joking." Morgan says, and grabs my arm to pull me around. "Mostly."

"Mmm-hmm."

"I am!"

"If you say so."

"Also, I want to help Father. If I can make a friend, that's a potential ally for Father!"

How very politically-minded of you Morgan. "Nevermind, you're going to fit in here perfectly."

Morgan squints her eyes at me. "Is that an insult?"

"Sort of. I don't think highly of politicians and the like."

"Suppose I can't blame you for that, considering what I know of your world's politics." Morgan says.

She isn't dissuaded about talking to people though. So talk we- well, she mostly- do.

It isn't very difficult finding someone to talk to, because as much as this is technically a party for Chrom and Maribelle people are also here to socialize.

While there are a lot of stuffy old people (who probably have titles) here, Morgan manages to locate people closer to our age. She pulls me over to a lone young man with a wine glass and a cravat. He looks awfully pretentious.

"Hiya!" Morgan chirps without preamble. "I'm Morgan! Soon to be the best tactician ever! Who are you guys?"

His eyebrows instantly rise, and I resist the urge to face-palm. This is a fancy high-class gathering where manners and formality is very important, and Morgan and manners generally don't get along because she's too busy joking around or bragging about how cute she is to learn or care about manners.

The young man decides Morgan is worth talking to, because he politely bows and extends a hand in greeting. "Allard Dracovine, a pleasure." He pronounces it "drah-co-vayin" not "dray-co-vine".

Morgan grabs his one hand with both of hers and shakes vigorously, almost causing him to spill

the drink he's holding in the other. "Hi! What do you do? What's going on? I'm sorta new here. Oh, this is Nathan, he's mine."

Allard is more than happy to talk about himself. He's the middle son of a prominent family of knights and wine-makers. He's set to take over the vineyards as his older brother is aiming to become a general. He speaks proudly of both family and his position in it, as well as their occupations.

"And you?" Allard asks. "What about you?"

"I'm Robin's daughter!" She chirps. I guess we're not hiding that information now, huh? "He's the Shepherds' tactician!"

"Interesting." Allard hums. "By chance, do you or your father have an interest in fine wine?"

"I've never tried wine at all." Morgan says. "I can't speak for my father though, I haven't spoken with him much."

"Oh really?" He says. "And why is that? Was he always too busy?"

That's… hmm… I'm sensing something a bit off about that question. I'm going to reserve judgement for now though. I'm not actually sure what's making me wary.

"Nah, I'm an amnesiac." Morgan says. "So I haven't spoken with him much because I don't remember much!"

"Oh." Allard blinks. "That's quite a problem."

"It's not so bad." Morgan shrugs. "Everything is new and interesting now! I bet you can't say the same thing!"

"That is true." He agrees. "Still, I'm surprised your father allowed such a thing to happen to you."

"It's not really his fault, he wasn't around."

"That is still negligence."

Okay, now I understand what I was sensing. I think Allard here is digging for dirt on Robin. He's trying to find something he can use as leverage. Words straight from Robin's daughter's mouth that he's a bad father would certainly count as leverage, so he's trying to facilitate that with leading questions and conclusions.

"Morgan." I murmur, putting a hand on her shoulder and leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Be cautious. He's looking for leverage on Robin."

Morgan nods, keeping her expression cheerful and happy. She offers no sign that her opinion of Allard has at all changed. Maybe she already knew this? Or is she just a good actor? "Right right, I'll go in a second Nathan."

Oh, nice cover Morgan. Now they're going to think I was just giving her a reminder. Very smooth. I nod back and return to my resting position. Morgan can handle this just fine.

"Father is great." Morgan says. "He's just busy, and I'll admit I'm a bit of a handful! Besides, how could he expect someone to curse me out of the blue?"

"I suppose…" Allard says slowly, clearly thinking. Morgan keep going before he can say more.

"Besides, isn't that normal?" Morgan chirps. "I'll bet a bunch of people's parents are busy! The world is a busy place! There's houses to run, money to make, training to keep up, staff to keep on track, reports to file, a whole bunch of stuff!"

"Even so, my father always has time for me." He says proudly. "Not a day goes by without him checking on my education and ensuring I am prepared to take over the vineyards."

"Is that so?" Morgan says with a smile. I think Allard just wandered into a trap. "Every single day?"

"Indeed."

"How much time are we talking every day?"

"A few hours or so, not including dinner and downtime. More than sufficient!"

"Sufficient indeed. Is he in charge of the vineyards at the moment?"

"Yes."

"And an active knight?"

"Not so, he is getting on in the years. He trains new knights. Plenty respectable."

"Of course, of course." Morgan says. "I imagine training the knights takes quite some time and effort, doesn't it? There's so much to do."

Allard puffs out his chest a bit and straightens his cravat. "Indeed you are correct. My father is nothing if not hard-working!"

"I don't doubt it, he sounds quite impressive." Morgan simpers. "Though I must say, between looking after you, his trainees, and the vineyards, he must have precious little extra time."

"Sadly true." Allard agrees. "It is the price one must pay for a position of power."

"Did you say you had a brother, Sir Dracovine?" Morgan asks. Breaking out the flattery and titles now are we? She's really going hard on this.

"Indeed I do. A younger sister as well."

"Did you say your father had precious little free time?"

"Indeed." He says, a bit less sure this time. I think he's starting to understand something is a bit off.

"Why, then it seems like your poor siblings are being a bit neglected, aren't they?" Morgan asks with a wide, predatory grin. So this was her trap. Allard tried to get dirt on Robin, so she's returning the favor. "It almost seems like your father is choosing favourites, how awful."

"I- well- that's not true at all!" He sputters. "My brother is busy on his own by this point, and he spares my sister some time as well!"

"Clearly not as much as you, seeing as he had hours to spare for helping you but precious little extra time by your own admission." Morgan says. "Your poor, neglected sister."

"That's not it at all! I am going to be taking over a position of power, it is only natural more time is spent on myself!" Allard says with an edge of panic in his voice. He definitely understands the trap by this point and doesn't want his father to figure out he accidentally gave someone possible blackmail on him.

"Ahh, I see." Morgan hums. "It's almost as if your father has to carefully ration his time and prioritize things of utmost importance, and that not sparing much time for his daughter doesn't indicate a lack of love or care."

Allard jumps to grab the out Morgan is dangling in front of him. "That's exactly right!" He says with relief.

"Well then, I suppose my own father can't be accused of negligence either, as he is quite a busy man as well." Morgan says with a triumphant grin. "Do take care about throwing around accusations in the future, Sir Dracovine. Especially if your own family fits the same description."

She loops her arm through mine before he can respond, and says.

"Now, I believe there was somewhere I had to be. Good day to you, sir." I lead her away, trying to hold back my own smile at the rather dumfounded look on some of the boy's faces.

As soon as we're sufficiently far away, I let a smile split my face. "Now Morgan, I do believe your father said not to make enemies. You can't go around traumatizing noble young men like that."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Morgan says innocently, though her own huge grin says otherwise. "I was merely having a conversation with a nice young man and following his lead. I only did as he did."

"I don't know what your father was thinking, putting me in charge of such an impressionable young girl." I sigh dramatically. "Though really, bringing you here is like dropping a wolf in a sheep pen."

"What did you expect with someone of my incredible intelligence and wit?" Morgan asks. "I'm going to have lots of fun here, I can tell."

"Nobles beware." I smile. "Morgan is here."

"You bet!" Morgan says. "Oh, and by the way, nice catch on the attempted blackmail."

"I wasn't sure if you'd caught it or not." I say.

"I had a feeling that's what was going on, but I wasn't sure."

"I wasn't sure either." I admit. "It just reeked of court politics, so I made an assumption."

"Well either way, he was insulting my father." Morgan hums. "So I have no regrets."

"Do you ever have regrets?"

Morgan shrugs. "Not really."

No surprise there. "Well either way, don't scare off too many young men." I tease. "You're a single young woman, I'm sure your father is looking for some nice, and more importantly rich and powerful, young man to marry you off to."

"Oh of course!" Morgan grins. "As a single woman, I need to be searching for a husband, how could I forget? That's my purpose in life."

"Such a shame you couldn't be married off to the prince." I sigh dramatically. "But there should be other candidates of decent value to grab. We need to make sure your marriage is an asset to your family of course."

"Obviously." Morgan says. "I should have worn a proper dress! How can I be expected to grab myself a man without a v-neck at least down to my navel?"

Feeling a bit bold, I poke Morgan in the chest. "Not sure that's going to help you. It's not like you have much to show off."

"How dare you." Morgan huffs, and crosses her arms. "Are you calling me flat?"

"Yes."

"Well you're right, but screw you anyways!" She pouts. "Are you saying I have no charm?"

"I never said that. Fishing for compliments are we?" I tease again.

"You just called me flat! How am I ever going to recover from that blow to my pride without compliments?" Morgan says. "My self-worth lies in ruins! Don't you know one stated fact from a man is a death sentence to any girl!"

"Of course, I forgot just how emotionally fragile the fairer sex is." I chuckle, and pat her on the head. "There there, you have other charms."

"Patronizing me now, are you?" Morgan continues to pout. A smile is tugging at the corner of her mouth though. This is all in good fun. "And I didn't hear any specifics! Could it be that you don't actually think I have any other charms and are just being nice?"

"You're not subtle you know." I say, poking her in the nose. "I see what you're doing. You're still fishing for compliments."

"Maaaybe." Morgan says. She leans against my arm with a shit-eating grin. "And you'll indulge me, won't you?"

"Only because I'm a pushover." I say. "But yes."

"A pushover to me, your girlfriend." Morgan reminds me. "It means you dote on me, and that's not a bad thing to a certain extent. Besides, I'm the same with you whether you know it or not."

I wouldn't have thought so. Morgan strikes me as too stubborn to be nudged into doing something… though I suppose I haven't ever intentionally tried to get her to do something either. "Alright, alright. But what do you expect me to say?"

"A compliment! Something about my appearance, because that's in line with the improv we're doing." Morgan chirps. She wiggles her eyebrows a moment. "Don't be shy. You just called me flat. If I'm not going to get offended by that, you have nothing to worry about. If you want to say you like my butt, now's the time."

Morgan knows me too well, because I absolutely would have gone with something safe if she hadn't said that. I can't believe I'm actually going along with this. I'm also very glad no one is really paying attention to us as we walk to some corner of the room. "Hmm… well I've already said before that you have chicken legs, and now I've said that you're flat…"

Morgan pouts again. "I want compliments Nathan."

"Just making sure I don't contradict myself." I say with a smile. "And as much as you use it as a joke, your cute face is one of those things to compliment. You should see just how smug you can look sometimes."

"Is looking smug a good thing?"

"Yes." I nod. "It feels very… you. You at your best. Smug, confident Morgan."

"That's a very unique compliment." Morgan says. Then, with an impish smile. "So what I'm hearing is that you like it when I take charge, hmm?"

"Uh…"

"Right." She grins. "Filing that away for later."

I don't know what that means, but I'm not that worried. It's Morgan. "So, was that what you were looking for?"

"I should have known you'd be tame." She huffs fondly. "I all but outright told you that you could be lewd!"

"That was more than I was going to do before." I mumble. "I was just going to compliment your hair or something before."

"Still so shy." Morgan smiles. "I'm not complaining though."

"I- I guess I could say-"

"Hey, don't let me push you to anything you're not comfortable with Nathan. I'm just teasing."

"Right." I say, but I'm going to do this anyways. I'm never going to become comfortable with it if I don't push my own boundaries a bit. "But- uh- I'm always trying not to stare at your hips, especially whenever you take off your cloak."

A grin splits her face. "Now that's what I was looking for, and Nathan?"

"Yeah?"

"You do remember this was supposed to be improv, right?" She says, holding back a laugh. "You could have made something up."

I cringe a bit. "Oh."

"Oh come on, that's not a bad thing." Morgan says cheerfully. "I was literally asking you to give me a slightly lewd compliment. I'm not going to complain about honesty!"

Ah, right, I'm worrying over nothing. "Of course, I should have guessed as much. Lewd compliments for a lewd girl."

"Exactly!" She says. "But really, I'll take compliments of any kind."

"I'm well aware."

"I'd return the favor, but…" Morgan pauses, gesturing to me. "I think I'll wait until you get your actual body. It would be weird to compliment you about a body that isn't ever really yours."

"You're assuming you'll find something to compliment."

"Oh I will." Morgan says confidently. "Everyone has something to like."

You know what? That's a good mindset. I need to emulate that. "Well, then I'll look forward to that then."

With our bit over with, Morgan finds a few other poor noblemen to toy with, and after she's had her fun we retreat to a table near the other Shepherds and future kids until dinner.

###

Finally, after the wedding, I manage to push Morgan into spending a day with her father. Robin finally has the free time, what with many people taking a free day after the wedding. Morgan tries to argue against it, but I refuse to listen.

I spend the day practicing my writing, going through sword drills, and more importantly: starting the creation of two more travel chess sets. One is for Morgan, and the other I want to send to Virion. I can't finish them in one day, but that's fine.

Something else I get done is commissioning some iron bolts for my crossbow. My wooden bolts have served me well but I want something with a bit more punch, just in case. It turns out that the design of my crossbow makes this a bit of a hassle. As of currently, the entirety of the bolt rests in the groove in which the bolt is launched (because I haven't managed to get enough power in the crossbow to fire larger bolts, and the groove helps to keep the bolt straight) whereas I'm fairly sure normal crossbows use bolts with bolt heads that would rest just beyond the front of the weapon. This is apparently a bit of a challenge for making bolts, as I can't use wood splitting to hold the bolt head in place. Instead the bolt head needs to squeeze around the top of the shaft.

Basically, because my crossbow design still needs improvement, making effective bolts is a bit of a pain. I have no idea how to improve it at this point though. I think modern crossbows use multiple strings to grant more force or something…? I'll have to do some testing, or ask Miriel, or both.

I'm explaining all of this crossbow stuff to Noire as I work on the chess sets in the yard of the Shepherds' barracks. Noire doesn't have much to do today as Tharja is one of the few people that is actually busy with something (I have no idea what), so she's hanging around with me. She's working on something of her own as well of course. She's practicing a spell, dark magic by the looks of it. I wonder if that's flux.

"I-It might be a matter of the material too." Noire murmurs. "A longbow only uses one string, but it has plenty of power and range."

"That's true, but it's also a lot bigger." I muse. "I can't just turn a longbow sideways and add a flight groove. That's too unwieldy."

"S-Still…"

"Yeah, it might be the materials." I agree. "Do you know what your bow is made of?"

"I think my current one is hickory." Noire says. "I've made so many over the years I tend to forget. They tended to get broken during particularly fierce Risen attacks and I'd have to use my daggers instead."

"You were on the front lines with your bow?" I ask. I presume that's how it kept getting broken. "How'd that keep happening?"

"There's no front line in ambushes." Noire murmurs. "The Risen would be everywhere, and I usually had to protect Brady so I couldn't just run away to create distance for me to shoot."

"Were you Brady's designated protector or something?"

"Not exactly." Noire says. Her hands fidget with the hem of her shirt. "I-I just- we- we're friends."

"Aren't all the future kids friends?" I ask. I genuinely assumed most of the future kids were friends, but I guess it might have been necessary to work with each other. They might have been companions, but not friends.

"W-Well yes." Noire says. Her eyes dart from side to side. "We- erm- we're close."

"Ah, alright." I say. "Good friends."

"Y-Yeah."

"You were friends when you were kids too, right?"

"Yes." She nods. "You know that from the game?"

"Yep." I say. "Honestly, you and Brady were always some of my favourites, so I remember quite a bit about you two."

"R-Really?"

"Yeah. It was mostly because I found you both quite adorable." I admit sheepishly. "Brady was a nice, sensitive guy despite pretending to be tough, and you were cute and shy. Just simple stuff."

"R-R-Right." Noir stammers. She's slightly red in the face now. Oops?

"Sorry?"

"It's fine." She says she says in a high-pitch voice.

"You are still cute."

Noire whines and hides her face in her hands, and I smile in slight embarrassment myself.

"Sorry again."

"You're not!" She says accusingly, though it's muffled by her still hiding her face.

"Okay, yeah, not really." I admit. "But I wanted to give a compliment."

I think that's supposed to be a glare on her face, but there's no anger to it. After a minute or two of me silently working on the chessboards she pulls her hands away from her face, though she's quite pink.

"Brady's a prince, right?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"Does he act… I dunno, prince-like? In the games it doesn't matter if someone is royalty or not, they keep the same personality. Just practical for game development."

"Not really." Noire murmurs. "A-At least, not around me. He was always very casual."

Sounds like Brady from the game then. Good to know.

"Lucina always acted more like nobility." Noire recounts. "B-Brady would always tell me how the queen would complain that he didn't hold his head up properly, or that he didn't seem to care about law lessons. He always had some new complaint from his mother to tell me about."

Yeah, that's about what I would expect from someone living under Maribelle. Poor guy. "In the supports it mentioned that both of you two were always getting sick together."

"Oh Naga…" Noire sighs. I get the feeling she's thinking "why is that part of his game?". "Yes, that did happen. Sometimes I swear we spent more of our childhood time together in infirmary beds than actually doing things. Thankfully that stopped, but it was annoying for the longest time."

"On the bright side, you probably have quite the immune system now." I offer.

"Immune system?"

Ah, uh, okay. Maybe that's not common knowledge here. "The simple explanation is that, when exposed to a virus, your body begins the process of learning to defeat that virus. This "knowledge" so-to-speak doesn't go away when the virus is defeated, which is why it's very rare to suffer through the same virus twice. It's not that you can't get a virus multiple times, just that the second time is going to affect you drastically less, in some cases to the point that you might not even notice you have it."

"Oh." Noire blinks. "That's amazing."

"Isn't it?" I grin. "On Earth we have these things called vaccines that are designed to give your body a small, modified part of the disease to trigger your immune response and have your body learn to fight the disease without you ever needing to suffer through the actual thing."

"Wow…"

"Technology is crazy sometimes." I chuckle. "So, anyhow, you've probably got some nice resistances if you went through that many illnesses as a kid." Assuming she doesn't have some sort of immune deficiency of course, but let's not worry her unnecessarily. She's probably fine.

"I haven't gotten sick in a while…" Noire says slowly. "Maybe that's why."

"Possibly!" I agree. "Though, interestingly, there are at least one-hundered and fifty versions of the common cold, so it's hard to be immune to all of them. Er, well, on Earth there are that many."

"That's so many…"

"And that's not even all of them. There are one-hundred and fifty variants of the rhinovirus, which is the most common group of things that cause the symptoms we call "the cold", but there are plenty of other virus groups that also do that. So in reality there's probably well over two hundred viruses that we call "the cold"."

Noire shakes her head. "I would never have known."

"Weird huh?" I say.

Me and Noire spend a pleasant day working on our own little projects, and occasionally having these little talks. It's a nice change of pace from Morgan's constant energy and chatter.

###

It's only halfway through the day after the one I spent with Noire that I think to ask: "Why was there a sermon before the wedding?"

Me and Morgan are conducting my sword training when I ask this. We're in the Shepherds' training grounds on a somewhat cloudy day. We're training just before lunch, when few other people are using the area.

I don't know a lot about weddings, especially royal weddings, but I don't remember ever hearing of a lengthy sermon before a wedding, meaning one that isn't just a part of the normal ceremony. That could just be my unfamiliarity with the whole thing though.

"I dunno." Morgan shrugs. "But we can make a few guesses based on what we've heard before. Laurent said that Emmeryn overseeing the wedding ceremony was a bit of a slap in the face of the church, right? So we can assume there's a bit of a delicate power balance between the crown and the church."

"Right."

"Well, perhaps that lengthy sermon beforehand is the church's way of keeping a handle on what they see as their area of power. Weddings I mean." Morgan says. She taps my foot with her practice blade, correcting my stance. "Like, naturally the royal family would dominate the event, right? So the sermon beforehand serves to remind everyone that the wedding is a religious event which Naga, and more importantly the church, is responsible for."

"That makes a certain amount of sense." I agree. "It's a measure of control over the royal family as well. If the royal family tries to have a wedding, it will be weird if they don't have that sermon if it's tradition to have it, right? So in a way they need the church's cooperation to legitimize their weddings. It's not just a matter of getting one priest to do the ceremony, you need multiple to give the sermons all over the city."

"Exactly what I was thinking." Morgan agrees. "Devious, isn't it? Control via ceremony."

"Indeed."

"Don't drop your stance Nathan."

"Yes mother."

A crooked smile crosses Morgan's face. "So you're into that type of play, hmm?"

Am I going to play along with this? How lewd is this going to get? You know what, sure. I'm going to play along. "You caught me. Oedipus complex all the way."

"Hah!" Morgan barks, her grin grows wider. "I can't help but feel this is an extension of you liking it when I'm in charge, hmm?"

She's going to milk that for all it's worth, isn't she? God I'm lucky to have Morgan. Ridiculously smart, extremely tolerant, and apparently flirty to the utmost degree. Also she's cute, but that's just a bonus. "Guilty as accused. Please, take charge."

"Hmm…" Morgan hums. "Can I be honest?"

"Sure."

"I actually have no idea where to go with this joke."

Well that's rare. "Honestly? I had no idea where this was really going either. The premise was a bit wack."

"I mean, I could think of something in terms of actions." Morgan muses. "Disarm you, then either trip you and step on your chest or maybe go for the flirty instructor angle. Tip your chin up with my sword and all that. It's just a matter of what I'd say and I have no idea what to do with that."

"There's no need to workshop the idea. The only reason I went along with it was to see what you'd do." I admit. "It probably would have been really weird, even by our standards."

"Yeah." Morgan agrees. "So instead… something, something, I flirt, you stammer and blush, let's not and say we did."

She knows the formula I see. "Alright."

"So fix your footwork already!"

"Okay, okay, geeze.."

###

After our… argument? Debate? After our whatever it was, me and Nah haven't spoken much, and I want to make sure she's not angry. I was mildly miffed after that, but I'm fine now. In hindsight I can absolutely understand where Nah was coming from. She comes from a ruined future after all, so mental health is really a secondary concern to surviving. It's redundant to ask if people should let their personal and internal lives fall to shamble for the group because that was probably the only option.

So basically, Nah wasn't being irrational. Far from it, she was stating the obvious, albeit the obvious for a different situation. I suppose with Grima still on the horizon, it makes sense that she'd have that mindset… and she might not exactly be wrong in thinking that way either. I think her reaction was overkill last time, considering we're in downtime there's no need for such drastic sacrifices to personal health in my opinion, but her mindset is understandable.

Finding Nah actually takes a bit of effort. Nowi and Nah don't exactly stick around the barracks all that much, so I have to grab her either in the morning before they leave or in the evening when they come back. I choose the morning for the simple fact that there are less people around.

It's not hard to catch Nah before her mother in the morning. Nowi sleeps in the most out of anyone, so there's a solid hour and a half where Nah is up but Nowi isn't.

And when we talk… it's really short.

"We're fine." Nah says curtly when I bring up our debate/argument thing. "I was tired of Mother being… Mother… and said whatever I had to to defend myself."

"I mean, you weren't totally wrong." I offer. "Wrong for the current situation maybe, but not wrong overall."

"Yeah yeah." Nah says. "But we're not in the future anymore, so I was wrong."

"At the moment. You might very well be right when the Valmese war starts. We won't be able to afford to let small, petty things disturb the group."

"Maybe." Nah says. "But… ugh, I was wrong at the time, alright? Stop rubbing it in."

That's not at all what I was trying to do. I was trying to show that I understood her mindset. Maybe I'm being rude without realizing it? "Uh, right."

"Now go, shoo." Nah says, pushing me out of the room. She's glancing at the kitchen for some reason. "Go… make out with Morgan or whatever the heck you two do when alone."

"That is not what we do."

"Whatever, leave!"

"Okay, okay…"

As I walk away, I can hear someone come out of the kitchen and call to Nah. Is that Laurent? That sounds like Laurent. I wonder what's going on. If I remember our argument, Nah was oddly defensive of Laurent there too. There's some connection between those two, or at least from Nah to Laurent.

Instead of going to Morgan, I instead go back to sleep. Having a safe place to stay has seen the return of my stay up late, wake up late habits.

Not that it matters, because Morgan wakes me up again not half an hour later, insisting that Miriel wants to speak with me. So I haul myself out of bed once more and move to the mess hall.

"Nathan." Miriel says, and jumps right into whatever she has to say without waiting for a response. "I have located a spell that can change your form permanently."

"Oh!" I blink. It only took her a month? I was expecting that to take a lot longer. "Well that's great."

"There is an issue, however." Miriel says. "While I may have located a way to obtain the spell, I do not have it, and obtaining it will be expensive. Not only that, but supposedly the execution of the spell itself will be both time-consuming and expensive in it's own right."

Ah, well that's inconvenient. I wonder if whoever is selling her the spell is jacking up the price. "How much money are we talking to buy the spell?"

"Fifty thousand gold."

Uh, okay. That's a fuck-ton of money. Morgan has a lot of money relatively speaking, but she didn't start with more than two hundred, let alone fifty thousand gold.

"You could buy out multiple baronies with that sort of money!" Morgan says in disbelief. "Why is it so expensive?"

"I do believe it is because the spell allows one to cheat death." Miriel murmurs. "The ability to alter one's body so completely can allow the elderly to become young again, and infinitely extend their lifespan. In addition, the spell is known by precious few people, and so a high buying price allows the spell to stay exclusive."

"They can keep a monopoly on the market." I say. "And ask whatever price they want."

"Precisely." Miriel nods. "Having the spell cast upon oneself is so expensive that even many nobles cannot afford it. Twenty five thousand gold for one cast of the spell. Even for the most wealthy individuals, that is no minor expense. It is truly a spell reserved for the richest individuals on the planet."

Yikes. There's no way we can ever afford that, and there's no way I would ask anyone to use that much money on me. I want my body back, but not for that high of a price. "Well there's no way we're going to gather that much extra money, to buy the spell or just a single cast."

"Indeed." Miriel says. "However, I took the liberty of organizing something else."

"Oh?"

"For the cost of one thousand gold, the seller was willing to allow me to view the spell being cast. They would not explain anything to me, but would allow me to see the process of setting up and casting the spell." Miriel actually smirks and pushes up her glasses. "Little are they aware, I have a photographic memory and am an expert note-taker. I should be able to gather enough information about the spell to finish it myself after one such viewing, though it may take some time to work out variables and fill in parts of the spell matrix."

One thousand gold isn't chump change by any means, but it's a far more reasonable cost. Besides, there are other applications than simply returning me to my own body. That spell could be used to re-create severed limbs, cure illness by simply creating a new body, and countless other medical applications. "One thousand huh?" I look to Morgan. "Do you have an idea how we could manage that?"

"We won't get it through killing bandits, that's for sure." Morgan frowns. "I can't think of a business that could amass such an amount in a short amount of time either…"

"If I may." Miriel interrupts. "I have a solution for this as well."

Miriel can do anything, can't she? "And what's that?"

"This spell has potential medical applications, not to mention extending life-spans beyond what is natural is immensely valuable." Miriel says. "So it is quite possible the crown will be willing to grant us the necessary funding for this endeavor."

Oh, like an investment! That makes sense. Besides, if anyone is going to get use out of the spell, it's going to be the royal family because they have enough money to actually afford having it cast. "Well that's great!"

"Indeed." Miriel agrees. "We are fortunate to know prince Chrom and Lady Emmeryn personally as well. As you can imagine, such a spell as this is not viewed kindly by religious individuals. It is seen as ignoring the natural order. So it is fortunate that the royal family will understand our intent from knowing us personally."

Indeed. "Thanks again for all the effort you're putting in Miriel."

"But of course." Miriel says with a smile. "This spell is beyond a simple personal request. Obtaining it is in the interests of science!"

I suppose it is, and how convenient for me. Though when Naga told me to talk to Miriel about this I didn't expect such a difficult process. I assumed Miriel already had a spell for it. I guess simply polymorph isn't permanent enough, but still…

Fifty thousand. Geeze.

###

I find myself not exactly sure what to do. Of course I still have things I'm working on. I'm still practicing swords and writing, and now I'm also trying to improve my crossbow yet again with some help from Noire, but those are just side-projects. Right now there is the question of if we should be trying to get to the south west of Plegia as quickly as possible, or if we want to wait for the political chaos to settle down.

The south west of Plegia is where Severa, Yarne, and potentially Gangrel are. Plegia however, having just lost a war and their king, is understandably a shitshow right how. We can't guarantee it's safe to go there even if we had the full might of the Shepherds (which we won't probably, because they have other stuff to do).

Even with the powerhouse that is Nah, there's a very real chance we'll run into something we can't deal with. Land or sea, we'll have to deal with brigands and/or pirates, finding safe places to stay and restock, and the military deserters turned bandits (far more dangerous than normal bandits) running around the country. Not to mention the fact that Plegia is probably going to be teeming with grimleal what with Validar trying to take charge.

There's also the small, tiny fact that all the future kids are still enjoying time with their parents and I don't want to pull them away from that. I say that's a small fact because they absolutely would come along to help Yarne and Severa regardless of how much they want to stay here.

"So I suppose the question is how much we need to get Severa and Yarne." I explain to Morgan, because she's a lot smarter than me. "Can we afford to wait for the situation in Plegia to calm down, or should we be going ASAP now that the wedding is over with?"

"Hmm, that is a tough question." Morgan muses. "We also have to take into account that we are an Ylisse-associated group going into Plegia after they just suffered a loss in a war against us."

"True." I hadn't considered that. "But at the same time we can't just leave Severa and Yarne to survive on their own."

"Yeah." Morgan agrees. "A pickle, isn't it? We have to take political concerns into account, so I think we should be talking with Father, or Emmeryn honestly."

"Sure, let's just casually walk into the palace to chat with the Exalt. Easy." I snort.

As it turns out, it… well it's not that easy, but it's not exactly difficult. I think us being Shepherds (kinda? It's still not clear if we're technically Shepherds or not) has something to do with it, because with a bit of needling from Morgan we get a clerk to send a request directly to Emmeryn (rather than him dealing with it, which would be standard) and that message is returned within a few hours inviting us to tea.

I can't help but feel like this is an abuse of our position. We get the attention of the most important person in Ylisse for our (mostly) personal wants just on virtue of us being Shepherds. Morgan has no such worries.

"It's not like Chrom or Maribelle are around to ask." She points out. "They're off doing honeymoon things, and by her own admission Lissa doesn't pay attention to politics all that much. Unless we want to talk to someone we don't know, Emmeryn is our go-to for advice here. We can argue our case better face-to-face. We were going to have to run this by her anyway if we want to leave what with Plegia's border being shut down and all."

It still leaves an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. Also, I don't like tea.

A servant leads us to Emmeryn's quarters, and Morgan confidently strides inside with me nervously padding after her.

Emmeryn greets us politely. She already has a table set out and tea and some various little pastries ready, and I feel even worse about her going out of her way for us. It doesn't help that I still find her intimidating.

"Morgan, Nathan, thank you for accepting my invitation." Emmeryn murmurs, and inclines her head to us.

Me and Morgan answer in exact opposite ways. Morgan says "no problem!" and I say "no, thank you for being willing to speak with us."

We all sit down around the table, and Emmeryn starts the conversation. She asks how we've been settling in, and if our rooms at the barracks are comfortable, and all the usual pleasantries.

"Your warnings have caused a bit of a stir among the council." Emmeryn says after the pleasantries are out of the way. "However, I'm afraid they are slow to make decisions, though I do believe my brother has plans of his own to aid in the matter."

"Good, we don't want Walhart getting more of a grip on Valentia than he has to." Morgan says.

"Rosanne and Chon'sin should put up a bit more resistance this time with Virion being aware of what's going to happen, as well as a message I sent ahead with him to give to Say'ri and Yen'fay." I add. "And with Tiki hopefully being brought into things, that could swing things even more in our favor."

"Indeed…" Emmeryn murmurs. "Though from the way you speak, you clearly expect Ylisse to get involved."

"I hadn't considered that Ylisse wouldn't." I admit. "Though I suppose Ylisse wouldn't necessarily want to get involved in another war so soon, would they?"

"Precisely." Emmeryn says. "Though of course, we cannot afford to ignore such an issue either, and I do believe my brother would find a way to get involved regardless of Ylisse's forign policy."

That's reassuring to hear at least.

"Though I believe you had something else on your mind when wishing to speak with me, yes?" Emmeryn says. "So please, speak."

"We want to get into Plegia, specifically the southwestern part of it." Morgan says. "Some of the other future kids are there, and we'd rather make sure they're safe sooner than later."

"In addition…" I say, then hesitate. "Erm, pardon, this may seem like an odd question, but did Gangrel survive the war?"

"From what I am aware, Chrom did not wait to see him die. He was left bleeding on the sands." Emmeryn says with a grimace on her face. "Why so?"

"Well, there's a chapter in the game where Gangrel is recruitable, which is also in the southwestern part of Plegia." I say slowly. "And that may be of interest to us as well, though chapters such as his are only questionably reliable for being bonus content and not part of the main game per say."

"Interesting indeed." Emmeryn frowns. "Though I must say, considering what you have told us before regarding Grimleal manipulation, perhaps it is best that Ylisse continues to think Gangrel dead. Gangrel has already paid a heavy price. I would not take away the chance for him to rebuild himself away from the grimleal."

"Yeah… except the situation he's in really isn't conducive to that." I explain. "He gets recruited into a pirate gang, and as the lowest ranking member no less. He doesn't rebuild himself at all. He doesn't have the chance."

"Most unfortunate." Emmeryn says. "Though, I do not think such a thing is high on our list of priorities."

"Fair enough." I say. "Uh, but Severa and Yarne are mildly relevant."

"Of course." Emmeryn agrees. "And they are functionally Ylissian citizens trapped in Plegia at the moment, and therefore Ylisse's responsibility."

I wasn't thinking of it in that way, but yeah, I guess they technically are. That seems like it might have some troublesome political concerns, so I'm surprised Emmeryn is willing to take responsibility for them without question considering the caution she just showed about antagonizing Valm. Maybe it's because war probably isn't on the line with Yarne and Severa considering Plegia is in no position to fight Ylisse.

"Why are you willing to protect Yarne and Severa? Isn't that a political hazard?" Morgan asks, apparently reading my mind. "You weren't willing to step in to stop Valm immediately."

"War is very different from protecting your own citizens. Morally, and politically." Emmeryn explains calmly. "And these two are Ylissian citizens. From a different world, perhaps, but Ylissian nonetheless. Politically wise decision or not, Ylisse has an obligation to aid them. What is the value of a country that does not protect its citizens?"

Honestly, that's not what I was expecting. I'm happy, don't get me wrong, but I wasn't expecting that. I was worried Ylissian policy was going to get in the way of helping Severa and Yarne, not bypass other concerns to make it happen.

"However such an endeavor as rescuing your companions is not to be taken lightly." Emmeryn murmurs. "We cannot be callous in such an operation. It may take some time, if we have time to spare. Is that the case?"

"Well, those paralogues only open up after the Valm war starts. Two years past Gangrel's defeat." I say. "So ostensibly there is time, though we cannot take the game as gospel. You were supposed to die in the game, or at the very least suffer brain damage, and yet here you are."

"Indeed." Emmeryn says. "As such, I can ensure a response in a moderate amount of time. It may not be swift, but it will be professional and efficient."

Morgan's brow furrows and her eyes narrow. "Does moderate mean months, or a year?"

"I do not know." Emmeryn says. "However, I would imagine less than a year. After all, this does seem a mission fit for the Shepherds, yes? The trouble will come in sorting out political concerns and planning how to ensure our rescues are minimally intrusive. We will still be treading on ground that is not ours, regardless of Plegia's political state, and so the less effect we have in Plegia the better. We do not need accusations attempting to convert locals or occupy territory leveled at us, among other concerns."

Right, of course. This is a delicate operation. We're lucky in a way that this is medieval times where such an operation can be carried out without being shared all across the world and causing a political incident and can perhaps even go unnoticed.

This would probably be really sketchy by modern political standards. Probably, maybe. I don't know politics all that well. I'll leave politics to Emmeryn. I'm just thankful we're getting help to do this rather than needing to work with just the future kids.

With all of that out of the way, conversation settles down to more mundane things.

"I usually make a point of knowing all the Shepherds." Emmeryn says. "But with how busy Ylisse has been, I have not been able to do so. This seemed like a good opportunity to get to know yourselves."

"We're Shepherds?" I ask.

"Of course."

I blink in surprise. Morgan doesn't seem shocked. "Didn't you know?" She says.

"No. I thought we were just being allowed to stay in the barracks." I admit.

"Well yeah, that's where Shepherds stay."

"I thought we were guests."

"They could have just put us up in an inn or something Nathan."

"Well yeah, but I don't really fight, I can't be a Shepherd."

"The Shepherds are not so rigidly defined." Emmeryn says with a smile. "Support capabilities are much appreciated."

Augh, I don't want to drag Emmeryn into my insecurities. I can think this over later. "Of course."

The rest of tea time is spent with more generic conversation. Emmeryn is quite interested in the medical advances of Earth in particular, though everything holds her interest to a certain extent. She's equally attentive to Morgan's cheerful recount of our travels getting to Ylisse.

Beyond the stressful stuff involving Yarne and Severa, it's actually a rather nice way to spend the afternoon. I leave feeling a lot less intimidated by Emmeryn than I was before.

###

Now that I have a basic grasp of the Ylissian writing system, I need to start writing things down. There are three main reasons for this. One: my memory is fallible, and will become more unreliable over time. Putting what I know now to paper will ensure I don't forget information. Two: writing information down allows it to be replicable, potentially allowing other people to take this formation with them without the need for me to be there. Three: if anything were to happen to me, I can leave what I know in Morgan's capable hands.

I have a number of things I want to write down, but Awakening stuff comes first for obvious reasons. I don't know exactly how to start, so I just go with trying to put to paper what I remember of the game scene-for-scene. It's messy and garbled, but at least the information will be there.

This becomes my main project after I finish the chess sets (Morgan loves hers, and getting the other sent to Virion is simple. Both of them are higher-quality than the original). I devote hours a day to scribbling on parchment and this necessitates me not spending almost every waking hour with Morgan, which is sad, but it has to happen.

This also means Morgan has to find a way to spend her extra time, and she does this by getting a hobby (as you might expect). Unlike what the games would suggest, she doesn't devote every waking moment to studying military tactics. Instead, she studies game tactics.

Yes, her hobby is studying board games. She's starting with barrels, and mapping out potential opening moves and what needs to be considered to make optimal moves.

"I can totally get some money through bets if I learn to play well!" She chirps when explaining to me her rationelle. "And I'm still studying tactics of some sort at the same time! Win-win!"

She also just likes games, but that's less funny to say. She expresses interest in getting into Multirealm when she has the time, but that's something she's going to leave for later. Morgan also has other things she does in her free time like spending time with her father or going to town or something. My activities are much less varied than hers.

The amount of time I spend on writing steadily increases as the days go on. The Shepherds slowly return to doing their job of protecting Ylisse when Chrom and Maribelle return from their honeymoon, and the future kids are eager to join in, especially when it comes to eliminating Risen. So there are times when it's just me at the barracks and no one else (because, of course, Morgan goes with them as well). I don't ask to come long because I'm completely unnecessary and there needs to be someone with future knowledge remaining in Ylisse to answer questions for Emmeryn and the council.

I start with an hour of writing a day, and within a week that becomes two, and by the end of the month my writing time increases to six hours a day minimum.

I finish writing everything I can think of about Awakening within a few weeks, and after that I start on two more writing projects. I start writing down as much random knowledge as I can remember, starting with medical and scientific information. My other side-project is fulfilling a promise I made earlier to myself, which was to write down all the board games I can remember and their rules and boards and just everything about them. This is for my sake and for Morgan, as Morgan expressed interest in a number of games from Earth.

The Shepherds are gone for long periods of time dealing with major Risen infestations, so I fall into a haze of waking up, eating, writing, doing my exercises, and then going back to sleep. Without Morgan or Noire around I don't have anything fun to do, so the days start to blend together. My sleep schedule slowly starts to change as well. I go to sleep later and later, and wake up later and later until I'm waking up at noon and going to sleep in the early hours of the morning.

The only breaks to my schedule are the odd meeting at the castle where my game knowledge is needed. It was nerve-wracking the first time, but I quickly realized that I was of little overall interest to the council due to how basic my knowledge was, even if it was future knowledge. Knowing that no one really cared about me, paradoxically, helped me feel more calm. I also helped that Emmeryn never requested I stay for very long. I was brought in when questions needed to be answered, and allowed to leave after. I needed not stay for entire meetings.

Other things that broke up my routine were messages. I received a few from Miriel, the first of which mentioning that she would be viewing the body-altering spellcast very soon, and that she had obtained funding just before she left and forgot to mention it to me. The others detailed what progress she was making, and she mentioned that she hoped to be able to safely use the spell on a person within a few months, perhaps even less time.

I'm never going to underestimate Miriel again. That's an incredibly quick development time.

I also, of course, got messages from Morgan, and she recounted all the various goings-on around the camp and all the gossip she heard, as well as any new games she played. Because of the relative mundanity of my own life, I usually responded with only a few lines about myself, and dedicated the rest of my letters to making crosswords, sudoku puzzles, and other little paper games for her to entertain herself with.

In one of her letters Morgan reported that the first Sudoku I sent her took an entire afternoon to complete, which surprised me because I thought it would be very simple for her. Her clear speed did increase rapidly after that though. I also made a habit of including a few sheets dedicated to paper puzzles in each letter for her, rather than just filling in the leftover parchment I hadn't written on with one or two.

The most interesting message has to be the one from Virion, however. Actually, it's three letters all delivered at once. One is from Virion, the other from Say'ri, and yet another from Tiki. To say I feel profoundly unworthy of getting letters from these important individuals is an understatement.

I open Say'ri's first, because out of all three of those I have the least idea of what to expect from her. Her penmanship is so heavily cursive and stylized that I can barely read it, though it is very pretty.

The long and short of it is that she's grateful for the warning, and informs me that Tiki did indeed confirm my status as outworlder. Other than that her message seems very… political? Or maybe it's just generic pleasantries. She says she hopes to be able to work with Ylisse at some point and thanks me for facilitating cooperation between Rosanne and Chon'sin and she hopes that we can one day meet and actually it's rather generic now that I think of it. This is either just a polite message, or she has no idea what to say. Maybe both. I don't imagine it's often she writes a formal message to someone who is essentially a peasant.

Maybe. I don't know. I can't read minds. Maybe she mistook me for a diplomat and this is a very standard letter?

Tiki's message is interesting. It's very short for one, as by Tiki's own admittance she has very little to say but took it as her duty to make contact with me and ensure my wellbeing.

"My mother has brought you here and so it is her responsibility, and therefore mine as her daughter, to ensure you are well." The letter reads. "I do hope we shall meet someday; I am curious as to what you may know of times past."

Well, I don't know a whole lot about Marth, but I know a little bit. When that time comes, hopefully I won't disappoint. Also, saying that I'm her responsibility seems a tad overkill in my opinion. Even if Naga brought me here, she also gave me a second chance at life, so that more than evens it out I think.

Virion's message is what I look at last, and it's easily the longest (thrice as long as Say'ri's in fact). There's a lot to it, from updating me on the situation with Valm and Chon'sin (the alliance has been successful, and Say'ri protected, though he cannot say how on the chance the message is intercepted) to informing me about the future kids I asked him to find (he has yet to hear back from most of his men but they have indeed been dispatched, including Cherche) to thanking me for the chess set I sent him and complimenting me on learning to write so quickly (as I did include instructions on how to play, written by my own hand. It's probably quite shoddy because I wrote that only a few weeks into learning, but if he's complimenting me I assume it was at least legible). He also makes the suggestion that I could turn making chess into a business if I can refine my crafting a bit further, as he can see many nobles enjoying it.

Virion's message is nice to get honestly. It almost feels like talking to a friend, even if we're far closer to business acquaintances than actual friends.

It doesn't really change my overall actions though. I still spend most of my time in my room, writing. I know I've mentioned it before, but without Morgan or Noire I really have nothing I care to do aside from writing. There's no point in going shopping because there's nothing I care to get. I've never been much for plays or horse races or any other form of medieval entertainment. Getting a job wouldn't exactly make my life any better so that's pointless when I already have income from technically being a Shepherd.

Once again I'm worried I'm getting something I don't deserve in that respect. What is it, exactly, I'm being paid for? What am I doing that warrants me being called a Shepherd? Is it my future knowledge? Is it keeping Morgan entertained with puzzles and games? Is it what I set up with Virion?

Okay, that last thing makes a certain amount of sense. Maybe that's what I'm being paid for, in addition to providing information at meetings. I don't know that as a fact though.

I need to do something. I was doing something when I was writing down everything I knew about Awakening, but I need to do something else that's actively helpful. Writing down random tidbits of knowledge might be helpful in the long run, but on a moment-to-moment basis it's less useful.

That leads me to the question of how one replicates written works in this world. Does the printing press exist, or do written works need to be replicated by scribes? What am I hoping to replicate anyways? The paper games? Is that something I should be charging for, since they're new? Or would that be covered under what I'm being paid for as a Shepherd? Would anyone even care about the paper games beyond Morgan?

Should I even be considering business ventures at all? I have no idea what to do. How do you do this whole "adulting" thing? I never learned how.

That's all too much of a mess for me to sort out on my own. I don't know how to start a business, and I'd much rather have Morgan's help if I was going to anyways. So instead of potentially inventing the printing press, I start to create more simple board games with easy-to-create pieces: checkers, abalone, snakes and ladders, yahtzee, all that good stuff. Hopefully by the time Morgan is back I'll have a small library of games for us to play.

This is on top of me writing, of course. It's not like I do anything else, so it's easy to let the game creation overtake the rest of the free time I wasn't using anyways.

In the back of my mind I acknowledge that I'm allowing a work obsession to overtake my life to cope with being lonely (because Morgan isn't here), but I can't really bring myself to care. This world has little to entertain me beyond the Shepherds and future children anyways. I'm a child of the internet age, and for a situation such as mine that is very much a negative thing because there aren't many non-electronic things that can hold my interest.

At the peak of my work-focused lifestyle, about three months after they left, the Shepherds return.

###

The Shepherds return in the morning, and because of my new sleep schedule that means I'm asleep when Morgan rushes into my room. It's not exactly unpleasant to wake up seeing Morgan's face after a month and a half of not seeing her though.

"Oh." I say groggily when Morgan pokes me awake. "Hi."

"Hi? That's it?" She pouts.

"I'm sleepy."

"It's almost noon Nathan."

"Yeah, that's wake-up time. Not eleven." I mumble. I sleepily pull her into a hug. "Good to see you again."

"You've completely destroyed your sleep schedule, haven't you?" Morgan asks, but eagerly reciprocates. "What have you been doing so late that you wake up at noon?"

"Working."

"On what?"

"Games." I mumble. "Or writing."

"Why so late?"

"Habit. Can't focus during the day." I say, and that's the truth. "There's just something about the late hours of the night that makes it easier to focus."

"If you say so!" Morgan says. "Now come on, come on, there's something you need to…" She catches herself before she reveals anything. "Just come!"

"Okay…" I yawn.

I take a moment to get dressed as Morgan bounces near the door, and as soon as I'm ready she drags me out of my room to the mess hall. Miriel is waiting there with an uncharacteristically eager smile on her face.

"Nathan! Good news!" Miriel says without preamble. "The spell is ready!"

"What?" I blink. "Already?"

"Yes!" Miriel says. "Though, there are some additional factors that came up during testing that you need to be made aware of."

Testing? She tested this? On who? "Okay."

"Perhaps we should sit." Miriel says, and we do just that. She brandishes one of her many notebooks and opens it somewhere in the middle. There's no bookmark, but she opened to that page on her first try. That's not because of her photographic memory, that's just her flexing on us. "Firstly, the spell is expensive to cast. It requires a large amount of mana, likely necessitating several mana gems, and it also requires a mana generator. The gems, minus the generator, are consumed upon casting."

Okay, but… "Why a mana generator?"

"The spell is not instant." Miriel says. "In fact… I theorize it will take quite some time. It seems to scale in time spent with the size of the body being created, and it scales exponentially. I have not figured the exact ratio of mass to time needed, but the process will likely take somewhere close to a year."

"A year!?" I shout. "I- but- how!? Why!?"

"The spell must first deconstruct your body, minus the brain, and then it uses much of that same mass to reconstruct it in your desired form." Miriel explains, pointing to her notebook. I don't understand half of the jargon and calculations there. "Such a delicate process takes much time, as you might expect. The spell functions by putting you into a coma for that duration, and only when your new body is fully constructed will it allow you to be woken."

I suppose it makes sense such complicated magic would take time, but a year is a long time. A year is longer than I've been in this world!

"From what I could gather, despite the person I paid trying not to give me information…" Miriel says. "It is normal for people wishing the spell to be cast on themselves to fake their deaths before the spell is cast on them, and then be reborn, so to speak, in a new identity. Often they pass themselves off as a long lost grand-nephew of their old identity, and set up a key item or key phrase that designates them as heir to their companies or land."

So if there's any doubt this spell is normally used for super sketchy reasons, it's gone now. I wonder how long some of the richest people in the world have actually lived with the benefit of this spell. This feels like black-market stuff.

"Cool huh?" Morgan chirps. She's smiling, but the smile looks tense, nervous.

"Yeah…" I say. "Cool."

"I have taken the liberty of purchasing the needed materials," Miriel says, and draws the gems from her pockets in a flourish. She looks very eager. "As soon as you can put your affairs in order, we can initiate the spell. It will require a simple mind-link to ensure your physical appearance is recreated as you wish it to be, as the spell is entirely in the hands of the caster."

"Right." I say. This doesn't feel real. This seems entirely too convenient. Miriel is superhuman. She saw a spell once, then managed to effectively recreate it within a month. "That's… that's fantastic. You're incredible Miriel."

"Many thanks." Miriel says proudly. She gathers up her books and gems and nods to us. "When you are prepared, speak with me. As I am aware, the Shepherds will be remaining here for a week."

A week to complete anything that needs completing. That's not a lot of time, but to be fair, there's not a lot of stuff I need to do. "I understand. Again, thank you Miriel."

"It is my pleasure." The mage smiles. "And many thanks to you for being the first human subject. That is no small ask."

Morgan grips my arm tightly. "Nathan."

"Yeah?"

"Can we go back to your room?"

"Sure." Is something wrong? "See you later Miriel."

Morgan pulls me back to my room. I sit on my bed while Morgan paces the floor.

"Okay, so, what's wrong?" I ask.

"Not… ugh." Morgan wrings her hands. "So you're going to go ahead with the spell, right?"

"Well yeah."

"I- we-" Morgan scowls. "I don't want to sound needy."

What? Why? How? "I don't understand."

"You're going to be gone for a year." She says. "Right?"

"Yeah."

"A year is longer than my memory." Morgan says. "A year is a long time to me! It's not that I don't want you to do it, but… I also want you around."

Ah. Of course. I've gone downhill with a month and a bit without Morgan, but that's nothing compared to a year. Of course, Morgan is less emotionally fragile than me, but one year is hardly an insignificant amount of time. "I- yeah, that that does suck."

"Understatement of the century!" Morgan says, throwing up her arms. "Nathan, I don't know if you realize this, but you're the person I'm closest to. Not my father, not one of the other kids, you. I've known my father for all of a month, and I'm not particularly close with the other kids. I… I actually don't know what I'll be doing without you."

"Hey, you just spent multiple months away from me." I soothe. 'If you can manage that about ten times over, you're fine."

"It's not the same!" Morgan protests. "I could write to you all the time! You wrote back! You gave me games! You listened and gave me something to talk about! I- I spent half my time with the Shepherds thinking about things to write to you about, or making plans for when I saw you again, or practicing chess! My life revolves around you!"

Oh. Oh. Ohh… "I… well I could say the same. I've sort of fallen apart without you around the last month and a bit. Got nothing else to do but write and craft."

"Surely you went out on the town or-"

I interrupt quietly. "Some days I literally didn't leave the barracks, and when I did, it was because Emmeryn called me for a meeting, or because I needed groceries."

"Then you know what it's going to be like!" Morgan says. She's almost shouting. "But I don't want to stop you from doing this, I just… I'm going to be lonely…"

"Yeah." I say quietly. "I get it."

Morgan's shoulders slump. "I don't want to be needy."

"You aren't." I say. "You really, absolutely, aren't. I'm the needy one."

"That's not true!"

"Agree to disagree then." I say. I also get Morgan to stop pacing by grabbing her arm and pulling her into a hug. "You'll be fine Morgan. There's so much more to the world than me."

"I know." Morgan mumbles. She squeezes me back. "But I like this part of the world."

"I like you too, and I'll be back." I hum. "But who knows, maybe in a year's time you'll have changed. You'll have nearly thrice as much life experience after all."

"You make it sound like I'm going to be looking for a new boyfriend."

"Maybe you will, you already have a go-ahead from me to explore other options."

"I thought you were joking about that."

"I wasn't." I say honestly. "You don't have to of course, I'm merely saying that I won't complain. You didn't know much about the world or other people before choosing me after all."

Morgan frowns. "I don't think I'll find someone else."

"That's fine." I say. "I'm just giving you the option."

"I could have done that without your permission."

"Of course, but you would have been worried about my reaction, wouldn't you?"

"Well… yeah."

"And there's my point. I'm not trying to be patronizing here, I'm just saying I wouldn't be offended. You don't have to worry about me. Take care of yourself first, Morgan."

"That's your job though." Morgan grumbles. "You take care of me, I take care of you."

I pat her on the back. "And we can return to that when I come back. In the meantime, let your father take care of you, and take care of him."

"It's not the same…" She mumbles. "I can't roleplay with my father. I can't sleep next to him. He's not you."

"And thank God for that." I tease gently. "Maybe he can instill some manners into you, young lady."

"First you say I have chicken legs, then you call me flat, and now you call me rude." Morgan says. "You're awful."

"Well I am a terrible person, who's manipulating you for my own benefit." I joke. "Oh beloved prize of my collection."

"What happened to all the compliments though?" She pouts. "I liked the compliments more!"

"Maybe there isn't much to compliment." I say with a smile. We both know this is a joke. "Alas, you simply look too young for my mature and refined tastes."

Morgan rolls her eyes to the sky. "Oh sure, because it's not like your 'collection' includes me and a prepubescent dragon girl."

"Shh, we don't talk about that." I say, grinning widely. "Besides, that collection also includes Noire."

"You're going to wake up after a year, and I'm going to look totally different, then you won't be able to insult me." Morgan huffs.

"With that growth spurt you always claim is totally going to happen?" I say. "Suuure Morgan. And I thought we'd already established that you like being insulted."

"I do, but compliments are better." Morgan says.

"If you say so bitch."

Morgan snorts and laughs, and I pat her on the back again. "I'm going to miss this…"

"I know."

"Dad isn't the same."

"He's not so bad though." I murmur.

"I know…"

"And you're sort of friends with Noire and Nah, right?"

"Kinda?"

"Well, you've always been good at talking to people." I say. I squish her face between my hands, and she pouts at me because of it. It's a very cute picture. "You can make friends if you try Morgan. You don't have to be lonely."

"I knooow." She grumbles. "But you better come back on time. Who else is going to snuggle me, feed my ego, and call me a whore?"

I think the fact that those words are a compliment is a testament to how weird our relationship is. "That's out of my control, but I'll try my best."

"No excuses!"

###

Setting my affairs in order mostly takes the shape of replicating key information. I get Morgan's help to make a few copies of my notes about Severa and Yarne to give to Emmeryn, Chrom, Robin, and a copy for Morgan herself.

I also have Morgan look over all the notes I've written on Awakening to see if there's anything that needs clarifying, and make a few edits in the margins of the parchment. She's shocked that I managed to write all of this in a few weeks.

"Like I said, I was writing for six hours a day after a bit." I say. "I got a lot done."

"Did you at least remember to eat?"

"I was busy, Morgan, not oblivious." I say. "Though in hindsight, I think I would have preferred to come along if the alternative is sitting in the barracks doing nothing."

"You would have gotten chores." She warns.

"Better than sitting in the barracks all day." I sigh. "I would have had you around, and Noire, and I might have actually been able to be useful."

"You say that like you did nothing for three months."

For once, I can agree that I actually did something useful. Those Awakening notes were important, and writing down my general knowledge is also useful. "More useful then."

"Fair enough."

Emmeryn has no problem with me being unavailable for a year, what with my notes to answer questions. She smiles serenely and wishes me well, and reassures me that Yarne and Severa will be rescued. The mission is scheduled for next month in fact. The council has finally nailed down all the details to make it work, and my knowledge is mostly unneeded at this point.

The next thing I do is explain all the games I made to Morgan. I have instructions written down, but that's no substitute for a demonstration. She doesn't seem to like yahtzee very much. Maybe it's the luck involved. Checkers and abalone get resounding approval from her though. Abalone seems to be the one game I'm able to consistently beat her at after, even after a dozen rounds when she would have usually pulled ahead.

The last thing I do is spend time with Morgan. Now that's a given, but it's important nonetheless. If I'm going to be gone for a year, I've got to make this week count. I go all-out with making jokes, roleplaying, snuggling, and anything I can think of to make her happy.

I also create a stockpile of paper games for Morgan in whatever free time I have. It won't be nearly enough to last a year, it probably won't even last a month, but at least this way she has something from me she can do when she wants. I get a few dozen paper games prepared before the end of the week, though it doesn't feel like nearly enough. I should have been stockpiling these from the moment Miriel told me she might have the spell done soon.

I'm less worried about the spell than you might expect. By Miriel's account it should be painless because I won't even be awake for the process, and I have absolute trust in Miriel's abilities. I'm more worried about the fact that I'm casually leaving Morgan for a year. That's almost twice as long as she can remember.

This is going to be a blink-and-it's-over situation for me, but Morgan is actually going to have to live through the year.

I'm out of time by the end of the week. A few people cram into a secure room in the castle where my body will be kept for the year. The spell will wrap me in a transparent, solid, pill-shaped container of magic as it does its work to prevent anything from getting in and interfering. That also helps with Miriel being able to monitor the process, just to make sure everything is going as expected.

"The spell is very slow." Miriel reassures. "If something does go wrong, I will have plenty of time to interfere and fix it. I am also capable of reversing the spell midway if needed, and returning you to your current body."

And she figured this spell out in a few months somehow. No one else really seems surprised by this. I have a feeling Miriel pulling off something impressive like this is a relatively common occurrence.

The people that have come to see me off so to speak, are the future kids (Laurent is here mostly to help Miriel, rather than any connection to me) Robin, and oddly enough Chrom.

"You are a Shepherd." Chrom says. "I would be a terrible boss if I didn't make sure you were alright going into something like this."

I can see why Chrom is a leader. He's a nice guy. That's a woefully insufficient reason to call him a leader, but I can see why that would help.

Morgan is almost panicking, which is not something I've ever seen from her.

"Your heart is going to be destroyed." She whispers. "Your heart!"

"I know." I say. "It's fine. That's what all the mana gems are for. They'll keep my brain alive. I'll get another heart after a bit. It's the last thing that's destroyed and the first thing that's recreated."

"How can you be so calm about this?!"

"It's basically a major medical operation." I shrug. "A bit intimidating, but nothing to worry too much about. Besides, Naga herself told me to ask Miriel, and Miriel wouldn't be going ahead with this if she wasn't sure it would work, or at least that it was safe to reverse."

I guess I take it for granted how familiar the idea of major medical operations are to me. Someone has to get a lung taken out? Sucks, but okay. Removing a tumor in the brain? Delicate work, but yeah, that can probably be done. For Morgan though? That's probably an alien concept.

"But still…"

"I'll be fine Morgan." I say, and ruffle her hair. "I'll see you in a year. I expect to hear of all your amazing accomplishments. Morgan: Risen slayer, hero of Ylisse, heartbreaker! Star of the court and beloved by all she meets!"

"Don't change the subject!" She whines.

"How is this not dark magic?" Noire frets as she watches Miriel prepare. "A-Are those going to have enough power?"

"If they are not, I will simply purchase more." Miriel says. "The spell is not as delicate to maintain as it might seem. It will sustain Nathan through the mana generator alone. The mana gems are there to induce progress. There is no fear of him dying from a lack of mana gems."

Noire looks at me. "A-Are you sure this is fine? You're going to be alright?"

"Yes Noire." I say, and remove a hand from Morgan's grip to pat the other girl on the shoulder. "It's perfectly alright."

How odd that I am the one comforting them and not the other way around.

Kjelle seems uncomfortable with the whole situation. She doesn't speak, so I don't know exactly what she's worried about, and I don't ask because I'm busy calming Morgan down.

"You're all worrying too much." Nah says. "If Naga said to go to Miriel, then it's fine. She wouldn't lie."

Despite that, I can still see Nah's white-knuckled grip on her crossed arms.

"How cruel of you to leave me to manage Morgan on my own." Robin says with a wry smile. I think he's trying to break the tension, because he too seems very nervous judging by his stiff posture. "I barely survived three months of her, and now I have to manage a year?"

"Don't let her roll into any fires." I smile "Play games, take her for walks, and treat her every one in awhile."

"I'm not a dog Nathan!"

"Oh, and don't forget to water her and give her plenty of sunlight." I say. Morgan tries to put a hand over my mouth, but I'm taller than her and simply tilt my head up. "And remove bugs from her."

"Nathaaan!"

Robin raises an eyebrow, recognizing that I'm making a joke but probably not understanding it, and then he nods and says nothing.

"The preparations are complete." Miriel says. She has a bunch of mana gems laid out in a circle around a thin brass arch with the mana generating gem embedded in the top. The arch (basically just a thin pole) is where I'm going to need to stand. She also has dozens of sigils and drawn around the arch in consecutive circles. "Whenever you are prepared, please strip and enter the designated area, and I will initiate the mind link and subsequently begin casting."

Because of the whole "tear your body apart and remake it" thing, you can't be clothed during the spell, and I mean… fair enough. Embarrassing, but fair enough.

"Alright everyone, out." Robin instructs, and herds most of the future kids out of the room. Kjelle gives me a clap on the shoulder, Nah (who really doesn't know me all that much) gives me a single nod, and Noire hastily hugs me before fleeing out the door. Robin and Chrom exit after them, leaving me with just Miriel, Laurent, and Morgan.

Morgan crushes me into a hug that very possibly bruises my ribs in the process, and I rub her back in reassurance. I can feel her breathing, and it's quite rapid. "It's okay Morgan, I'll be fine. Deep breaths…"

Morgan does her best to listen, and after a minute her breathing is calmer and she reluctantly pushes away from me. She opens her mouth as if to say something, manages a small "be well" then closes it and backs away, watching nervously.

The three of them then turn their back as I strip and take my place under the arch (and politely shield myself with my hands). "Alright, let's get this over with."

Miriel and Laurent are too focused to be awkward when they turn back around, and Morgan is too worried. That makes the situation a lot more manageable for me. Miriel twists her hands to cast a quick spell and says. "Now, visualize your desired form. You may wish to include another object or a setting in your mental image as reference so your height can be accurate."

I do so. The mind-link feels weird. It's not a total mind-link, I can only feel Miriel's surface thoughts. Calculations and observations mostly as she runs over what she needs to do in her mind. I close my eyes to help with the focus, and visualize my old body. Long brown hair, blue eyes, skinny, all that stuff. I imagine looking into a full-length mirror, and imagine the brass arch is over my head. I also bring up my hand to about where I think the head-height of my old body would be, then open my eyes.

"Is that image what you are going to use?" Miriel asks. "I will be using this image to feed the spell. Your subconscious will fill in the rest of the minor details, but you must be sure the major strokes are accurate."

"I'm sure." I say. It's as close as I'll get anyways. It's been half a year since I saw my old body in a mirror. "I'm ready Miriel."

"Alright then." Miriel murmurs. "I will begin casting. "Laurent, be prepared to lend power to the spell if my own reserves are not sufficient."

"Of course."

Morgan rapidly clasps and unclasps her hands as the spellcast starts. I have to keep the image of my desired form in mind, so I can't reassure her like I want to.

The translucent shell shimmers into existence around my body, and a moment later I can feel myself being levitated off the ground and suspended within it.

"You need no longer focus." Miriel says, still twisting her hands to cast the spell with no less than half a dozen glowing orange circles in front of her hands. Our mind-link abruptly fizzles away. Miriel isn't looking at me anymore, she's focused on the spell circles. I can see sweat on her forehead. "The spell… Laurent."

"The spell has already processed your mental image." Laurent provides. I guess Miriel can't focus on speaking and casting at the same time anymore. Laurent's voice is muffled, like he's speaking through a blanket. "You should begin to feel lethargic within a minute or two."

Finally, with that out of the way, I can look Morgan in the eye. Her hands are balled into fists so tightly that I worry her fingernails are going to make her palms bleed. I smile and stick my tongue out at her, just to try and reassure her. I'm in no pain, there's nothing to worry about.

I can see her sniff and rub her eyes. Apparently she was holding it in before, because now she is absolutely crying and I'm in no position to help.

"It's fine." I mouth, keeping a smile on my face. I bring up one hand and wave. "See you in a year!"

Morgan waves back, still sniffling.

Lethargy shoots through me all at once. I yawn and try to keep my eyes open for as long as possible so I can keep looking at Morgan, but I only last another minute. Eventually my eyes are forced closed, and sleep overtakes my mind.

Chapter Text

If Laurent and Miriel are tired of my constant questions and fretting, they don't show it. They patiently answer my questions, even when I ask the same one again and again, and never let slip that they think I'm being irrational.

I get that it's science, I get that Naga herself gave the go-ahead for this, but that doesn't mean I'm not worried. I don't understand how Nathan, who is usually a nervous wreck at the smallest of perceived issues, was more-or-less calm about having his entire body deconstructed and rebuilt.

His worries weren't even about the process so much as the fact that he might be in pain or discomfort afterwards. He was worried about aches more than the actual spell!

It takes me a few days to get myself together and stop constantly pestering Miriel and Laurent. Father tries his very best to distract me. Usually he's quite busy, but he puts aside time to play chess, walk around towns and talk about everything he's seen and done so far, and he even lets me help with his work to try and take my mind off things.

It helps a little. Not as much as I want, but a little. I love Father of course, but we don't know how to talk to each other. We're just so different. Father is serious, and I'm light-hearted. Father is calm, and I'm excitable. Father likes work, and I prefer free time. Our senses of humor don't line up very well either.

And it doesn't help that this is all so different from my memories. We don't have a house, I'm no longer young and naive, and he's busy dealing with his own life and (as much as he tries to hide it) doesn't have time for me. Father has his own problems to sort out. He's not ready to be a parent at the moment, and I can't blame him for that.

I find distraction in Nathan's piles of notes. His handwriting is messy, much more so than he uses for letters, though it's not illegible. He also tends to use slang and casual speech in his notes rather than writing formally. I spend time reading everything he has to say about this world ("the world of Awakening" he calls it; named after the game title if I'm remembering correctly). He's not going to be here, so if anyone needs information from him specifically it's going to have to come from these notes, so I'm going to do my best to memorize them.

A lot of the notes are restating things I already know, because I do actually pay attention when Nathan speaks.

I also immediately establish a schedule to ration out the paper games Nathan made for me. There's about fifty of them, so I can do one every eight days or so and they'll last me a year.

Nathan really made a lot of these in a short amount of time.

It's unfair to put all the onus on Father to keep me busy, so I make some tasks for myself as well. I've been putting off some things for a while.

The first thing I address has been a running joke between me and Nathan for a while, but it's also a legitimate concern: my growth. I want to know if I will ever grow again, because I feel like I should. I don't just mean I want to be taller, I mean some part of my subconscious memory makes me feel like I haven't changed when I should have.

So that's why I gather all of Nathan's notes on the subject (he thankfully wrote down everything he knew about growth defects, maybe anticipating I would need this information) and go to Miriel.

The mage is highly intrigued, and quite happy to have another unique project. Nathan's notes on the pituitary gland are extremely basic, but it's enough that Miriel can locate it when dissecting a rat. Miriel isn't sure what she can do about studying hormone levels, but she does have another idea.

"It would be natural to assume that there are certain changes that occur in the brain's structure as one matures." Miriel says. "And it is also natural to assume that there would be some significant changes that occur through puberty. If I can identify these changes in humans, I can check to see if you have fully undergone those changes or not. In addition, if I can create a spell that allows me to look at your brain, I can check for more obvious issues such as tumors."

That works for me. A spell that visualizes things is not all that complicated as it is simply scrying but applied differently, so she should be able to create such a spell from scratch in a matter of weeks. Studying brain development will take a bit longer, but with the help of the imaging spell it shouldn't take overly long to get at least a basic idea of what's going on.

Miriel says this like it's oh-so simple, and I can't help but think that if it were anyone but Miriel this might take several years instead of maybe a few months.

So, anyways, I have other things I want to do too. I want to plan for the future, because I absolutely haven't been doing that.

Think about it. I live either in a tent, or in a barracks. Those are supposed to be temporary. Those aren't homes, even if they're places to rest.

Basically I'm saying "where am I going to live after this whole Grima thing is done with?", because in case you haven't noticed I don't have a house, nor does Father. I don't fancy living in a barracks for the rest of my life, and it would be rude to expect Father to buy a house just for my sake, or to expect him to let me stay (okay, maybe that's slightly less unreasonable), so I have to sort myself out.

Or, you know, make a plan to sort myself out eventually. I guess I don't really need a proper home until Grima's gone because I'll be on the move anyways. I guess that means I need to put money aside.

Yaaay, money-management. It's as boring as it sounds. I don't exactly have time to ask around about prices on houses in town before the Shepherds leave to go get Severa and Yarne, but I'll remember that for later. Thank Naga I get paid now, so I can actually stockpile money instead of just spending it all the time.

Next on my list is… uh… a hobby. A hobby that isn't games. A solo hobby. Because games remind me of Nathan, which is great except when it makes me feel lonely.

I choose magic as my hobby, if you can call it a hobby. By that I mean I start messing around with spell circles and try not to blow myself up in the process. I'll leave it at that, because I think it will take a while before I get to a point that I'm inventing spells. You don't want to hear me talk math all day, because that's mostly what spellcraft is.

My hobby is math, and you damn well better bet it's cool! Eventually I'll invent a spell that will blow up a mountain or turn dirt into diamonds or something! Just you wait!

While I'm sorting my life out, the Shepherds are on their way to Plegia. Specifically, the southwestern part of Plegia. We're finding Severa and Yarne, and oh boy, that means more boat travel.

Boat travel, as it turns out, is really boring when you do it for more than a week at a time, especially when you're avoiding all the ports because you don't want Plegia to know you're there. Just endless ocean water, progressively less tasty food, and a bunch of increasingly antsy Shepherds crammed into a space that no one really wants to be staying in for two and a half months.

Because there are just under thirty of us, sleeping arrangements are… cramped. Four people to a room sort of cramped. Naturally, that means me, Noire, Kjelle, and Nah share a room, but it's still not the best.

Surprisingly, Kjelle isn't the problem point. She keeps her cool rather well. It's mostly Nah who has issues.

"Stop being so loud!" Nah snaps at Kjelle during our tenth day at sea. "How am I supposed to sleep with you making so much noise?"

Kjelle is unimpressed. "I am polishing my lance, this is just about the quietest thing I can do. Also, it is two in the afternoon, why are you sleeping?"

"What else am I supposed to do?" Nah growls. "Clean my dragonstone for the seventh time? Help Miriel torture rats? Lose to Morgan at one of Nathan's games for the fiftieth time?"

"She's not torturing rats." I say. "She's doing science."

"Same thing." Nah grumbles. "Miriel's "science" is built on rat torture. She spent the last month transforming rats into different rats, and most of them died."

Yeah, admittedly the tests Miriel ran to perfect the spell for Nathan were rather… uh… gruesome in their results sometimes. There's a reason she wasn't using human test subjects.

"It's only rat brains." I say. "They're interesting."

"The you go torture rats." Nah grumbles. "And leave me in peace."

"You can literally hear people walking on deck right now." Kjelle says flatly. "It's not going to be that much quieter if we leave."

"But it will be quieter." Nah says.

"I realize you're in a foul mood, but this is our room as well." Kjelle says. "So, frankly, deal with it. You're a Shepherd. A soldier. You've dealt with worse before."

"That doesn't make this any better." Nah growls. "I still hate it."

I understand. I really do. I'm frustrated and bored myself. I don't have much to distract myself. No one wants to play games with me, I don't have that many people I can really talk to, and of course no one is going to do a bit with me or cuddle.

Granted I think it would be weird if someone was willing to cuddle. Except maybe Nowi. I could see Nowi going for it.

The last three months gave me a taste of what it was like to not have constant companionship, but the boat makes that all the more apparent because there's little to do and nowhere to go, while in camp there was usually a chore you could do, or you could go for a walk or go to a town or tend the campfire. There was just so much more to distract me.

In hindsight, this was the worst possible mission I could have gone on right after losing Nathan. A mission that makes it very clear just how lonely I'm going to be, even while surrounded by other people.

"So do I." Kjelle says with a surprising touch of sympathy to her voice. "But we have to put up with it."

Nah's fists clench on the sheets, and then she sighs and lies against her pillow. "Is there some sort of spell to block out the noise…?"

"M-Maybe." Noire murmurs. "I could ask Mother."

"Nevermind." Nah grumbles. It's not surprising she doesn't want to deal with Tharja, even if it might solve her problem. Almost no one wants to deal with Tharja. I haven't been able to get much of a read on Tharja either. I can't tell if she's a jerk or if it's a very carefully cultivated facade, because both are plausible.

Oh, right. Nathan mentioned that in the game Tharja was obsessed with my father, and as far as I can tell that's just not true here. It's one of those inconsistencies between game and reality like Emmeryn's survival.

The bright side of this trip is that Miriel has plenty of time to run her tests on the rats she's brought along (and keeps very carefully contained, of course). Once I get over the yuck factor of cutting open a rat, it's actually rather interesting to figure out what everything does with the help of a few weak electrical pulses.

Miriel is a bit more observant than me of course, and she notices some things of interest in young and older rat brains. She notices something which she identifies as something called "grey matter" described in Nathan's notes. It doesn't look very grey to me, it looks brown, but whatever. Miriel is the scientist.

Miriel also quickly develops the imaging spell, and within twelve days of us leaving shore she's ready to use it on a human being. She tests it on herself first, and when she has Maribelle verify that there were no negative effects, she is ready to use it on others.

In order to identify if there's anything weird with me, she needs to get a look at some people who we're fairly sure don't have issues. That's not particularly difficult. She images the few people around my presumed age like Lissa and Donnel, uses Ricken for the image of someone who hasn't hit puberty yet (a woman would be more useful just for consistency's sake, but we don't have that aside from Nah, who is a manakete and therefore can't be relied upon for human brain anatomy), and then takes liberal looks at a number of adult Shepherds like Maribelle, herself, Sully, Noire, Chrom, and Father.

I'm last simply for making any differences all the more apparent.

"There is no guarantee this will show anything relevant." Miriel warns. "While there are some minor patterns I have noticed in the aging process, they are just that: minor. The changes are also much less drastic through puberty than through the stages of infancy. We may have to attempt something else."

"Okay."

The spell only takes a few seconds, but the meticulous drawing of the images takes a while. The spell doesn't show one image, it shows multiple. It shows my brain as a whole (which is mildly creepy to have floating in front of me), a vertical cross-section, a horizontal cross-section, and a close look at the pituitary gland (because that's what's potentially important).

The drawing takes about half an hour because Miriel wants to get everything as close to accurate as possible. She's drawing on "chart" paper (something of her own invention apparently, it has a lot of vertical and horizontal lines to create a tight grid) and the spell itself also has these grid lines behind the pictures allowing her to check the accuracy of her drawings.

Even after Miriel drops the spell, she and Laurent spend a long time comparing my pictures against everyone else's. There's a lot of conversation of "is this within the normal range of variation?" and a bit of muttering on Miriel's part about how they need more subjects of more age ranges to have a more complete idea of everything.

I'm resigned to the fact that Miriel might not be able to get anything useful out of what information she has available, and of course that's the exact moment that Miriel addresses me.

"I do believe I have the answer to your question!" Miriel says in excitement. Laurent looks remarkably less excited, and is in fact frowning just a bit. Miriel has a number of drawings laid out on her desk, and beckons for me to see. I can see the pictures of the pituitary gland for Lissa, Ricken, Noire, and of course myself. Miriel points to the place where the gland connects to… uh… I'm sure there's a technical term but I don't know it and Nathan didn't write it down. The place where the gland connects to the rest of the brain. That's what Miriel is pointing to. I honestly don't see what's so interesting. "Do you see it?"

"No…?"

"Observe this shape, here." Laurent murmurs.

I squint again, and I think I understand what he means. There's a small little… something extra. "Is that a tumor?"

"Precisely!" Miriel says. "It pinches the connection point and all the blood vessels ever so slightly within the bone cavity in which the gland rests. Now, clearly this is not severe or you would already be suffering from other issues, and you have grown perfectly well up to your current point, however this could be indicative that growth hormones are not fully making their way out of the gland to the rest of your body, or at least at a slower rate than would be expected."

"Huh." I say, staring at the picture. I was half expecting to get the answer of "nope, you're just small, tough luck", so hearing that there is actually something potentially wrong is… interesting.

"This is fascinating!" Miriel continues eagerly. "Just imagine the potential medical applications of this spell, and of our newfound knowledge of the brain! Perhaps we can identify some root cause of dwarfism, or aid with various mental issues! Just think of what we can do once we have a way to look at hormone levels and the strength of electric signals!"

I'm glad she's enjoying herself, but… "So what can we do? Is there a way to fix me?"

"If indeed you wish us to remove it," Laurent says gently, "then yes, removing the tumor should not be an issue. My mother is no stranger to precision spells, and there is precedent for such delicate internal work involving the manifestation of extremely small wind blades within a person's body."

It's hard to contain my excitement. I never thought I would be happy there was something wrong with me, but it proves I'm not crazy! My feeling that something was wrong proved true! Not that it doesn't make me a bit nervous that there is something weird with my body, but at least at the moment I'm relieved to know I was right.

And to think that without Nathan's basic knowledge of growth defects and this specific part of the brain, we would have never discovered this (potential) issue.

"I knew I wasn't crazy." I whisper with a smile on my face. I can imagine it now. Nathan wakes up in a year, and I'm different. I'm cooler, hotter, and maybe even taller than him! Ooh, that would be fun. Role-reversal! Maybe I can piggyback him around! I'll have to thank him for actually writing down this knowledge even though he clearly thought I was done growing. He may not have believed me, but he gave me the tools to check anyways.

Also, I'm not surprised that Miriel can make a spell to do brain surgery if she needs to. She literally recreated a spell that disassembles someone's body and reconstructs it in a different form. Removing a tumor is going to be child's play for her.

This is why I want to learn more about magic, by the way. Look at all the awesome stuff Miriel can do with it! Looking at brains, changing bodies, (probably) removing tumors, and all the other things she's already done that I haven't asked about yet! I know Miriel already has an assistant in Laurent, but maybe I should see if she's willing to teach me a thing or two.

"In addition, your brain also shows higher concentrations of this oddly-coloured tissue that shows itself more prevalently in youth." Miriel adds as an afterthought, pointing to certain parts of my brain that were oddly brown-tinted. "If there was doubt about you not being fully developed."

So ends the exciting saga of dissecting rat brains and using magic to look at human brains, and it's back to boring boat stuff.

###

We aim for Severa first, despite her location being further away than Yarne's. The council decided this was safer, as information will travel faster over the mainland than from the island that Severa's chapter takes place on, so we'll rescue Yarne second because his location is on the mainland. It's a safety thing apparently, though it sounds ridiculous to me.

We also have to wear disguises, which is stupid.

"But I already look Plegian!" I complain. "My coat literally has Grima eyes on it!"

"It's too recognizable." Father explains. "You might be mistaken for myself."

"I'm a girl! No one's going to mistake me for you!"

"Well…"

"What? Are you saying I look like a boy?" I ask and cross my arms.

"Not to me, but perhaps to others." Father placates me. I recognize the diplomatic phrasing for what it is though.

"It's because I'm flat, isn't it?" I huff. "I'm too androgynous?"

Father blinks in shock for a second, and his hands freeze in place above the map he's looking over. "I-I never said that."

"What is it then? Clearly you have a reason to think I might be mistaken for a boy." I say, frowning at him.

Father tries to nudge us away from the topic of my appearance. "The disguise has plenty of pockets Morgan, I made sure both of ours had that, you can fit all your things in there just fine. Is it really such an issue?"

"It's not." I say, still frowning. "But that doesn't mean I like it, and I still want to know why you think I look like a boy."

I'm aware I'm being a bit petulant, but my own father just said I don't look like a girl! I was already aware of that, Nathan told me once upon a time that he wasn't sure if I was male or female upon seeing me until I explicitly called myself a girl, but that doesn't mean I'm not annoyed at Father for pointing it out and then trying to dodge around the question. If you're going to point it out, stick with it! Don't instantly backtrack when I so much as frown! Also, he knew I might get annoyed and yet he pointed it out anyways!

I'm not mad, just annoyed. Also I've been cooped up on this boat for two months and I'm a bit irritable.

"Like I said," Father says after a hesitant moment. "I don't think you look like a boy…"

"You're dodging the question Father."

He looks lost as to how to respond. "I… the coat is not very flattering, even if it is a very nice coat."

Yeah, he thinks I'm flat. This is a lot less funny than whan Nathan teased me about it. "There, was that so hard?"

Father stares at me in mute surprise. I sigh tiredly and drop my arms from their folded position. I know I'm being petty. It's so easy to be petty. I should stop.

"So disguises, yes, sure. Pockets are great." I say. "I presume you have an overland route planned?"

"Yes!" Father all but jumps at the chance to change the subject. "We're going to spread out in small groups to maximize the area we cover as we sweep the island. The point on the map Nathan specified is already not the smallest area to cover, and seeing as Noire was rescued in a location quite far from where her prologue would be-"

"Paralogue." I interrupt.

"Pardon?"

"It's called a paralogue, not a prologue."

"Er, well, Noire was recovered quite far from her paralogue, and so we can't guarantee that Severa will be anywhere near the location of her own paralogue."

"Of course." I say, studying the route. Father has little figurines for everyone. They're very simple wood figures, but you can tell who is why by some little modification. Chrom is the one with a cape, Sully has red armor and a horse, Father has a black coat and white hair, and I'm the one with the same coat and black hair. "Father."

"I think I see a problem."

"What's that?"

"It might be a good idea to have one of the future kids in each group, if possible." I say. Right now, all of us are clustered into a group of our own (which is larger than the other groups I might add. Most groups are of three, not five). "There's no guarantee Severa will recognize Shepherds aside from her parents, but she'll definitely recognize the future kids. Well, not me, but the others for sure."

"I see." Father frowns. He takes a moment to reorganize, but comes up with an obvious problem. "There aren't enough future kids to go around."

"Well." I pluck Cordelia out of her group with Vaike and Nah, and switch her with Sumia who has no future kids in her group. "Cordelia can work for this group, and…" I don't want to reveal the father, so I make a few irrelevant changes as well as putting Frederick into a group without a kid because Frederick is the rather. I then point to Frederick's group, but not him specifically. "That group is fine too, but these three groups don't have anyone."

Father gives me a critical look. "You know who everyone's parents are."

"Well yeah." I say. "I was around when Nathan was figuring it all out."

"I see." Father says. "And you support Nathan's decision to not tell anyone?"

"Well, it would be rude of me to undermine him while he isn't here to defend his decision." I say. "And all the other kids were onboard with that decision, even if they don't necessarily like it, so there's no reason for me to go against it."

Truth be told, I'm not picky one way or another about the decision not to tell the Shepherds about which kids they have. I can see the logic in saying something, and I understand the logic in not. I probably would have revealed everything, but I'm not so against Nathan's decision that I'm going to go against it, and Kjelle, Nah, and Noire all seemed to agree that they don't want to risk messing up their parents lives by saying too much, so hey, I'll go along with it.

It is a bit odd that Nathan made the decision though. One of the few times he takes charge, and it's about something that arguably isn't his to decide. Then again, maybe his more detached look at things was necessary because it's not his parents he's talking about.

"Do you know who your mother is?" Father asks.

"Yes." I say. "I'm not telling you who."

Father frowns. "Perhaps Nathan has been a bad influence on you after all."

I roll my eyes. "Just because you don't like the decision doesn't mean he's a bad influence."

Father flexes his fingers and narrows his eyes. I once thought this meant irritation, but over the course of observing him I know it actually means he's thinking on how to phrase something. "Morgan, I speak for most of the Shepherds who have suddenly become parents, even Nowi, in that none of us feel like we know what we're doing, and it would be useful to have the help of the other parent to… provide for and support all of you."

"Father, in case you haven't noticed, us future "kids" are technically adults. You all don't need to "provide for" us, and while support would be nice it's not nearly as drastic as you seem to think it is. We've handled ourselves just fine for quite a while. Maybe I'm interested in learning more tactics, and maybe I don't have my life quite figured out, but I will live my life with or without you. I'd like you to be a part of it of course, but I'm past the point that I need you to provide for me." I say. "If you tried to say that to Kjelle, she'd probably curse you out of the room for insinuating she can't handle herself. Nah would probably scoff and say she's the one taking care of Nowi. You're all overthinking this. We are adults. We're not asking you to coddle us, we just want you around."

"I see." Father says. He still doesn't look comfortable, but he does seem a bit more calm… or is that resignation? "Can you at least tell me if I'm on the right track…?"

"The point of not telling you who my mother is is to not influence your behaviour. It's to protect you from that exact line of thinking." I say. "I'm not revealing anything."

"But I don't want to choose the wrong person." Father says in frustration.

"You're not obliged to abandon what you want for my sake. There is no "wrong" person."

Father doesn't seem to like that answer. "But you are my daughter."

"I appreciate your concern, but seriously Father, I'm your daughter, not a tyrant." I huff. "I don't dictate your life."

I do appreciate the fact that he cares so much. He hasn't known me for very long, but I am important enough to him that he'd legitimately consider throwing away whatever else he may have wanted just for my sake. That, however, is a completely idiotic thought process.

"We're getting distracted." I say, giving Father an easy out to this topic. "We need people for those three last groups."

"Yes, of course." Father sighs. "Do you have an idea as to who might be particularly recognizable among the Shepherds?"

"Well…" I frown. There was someone special in Nathan's notes for recruitment, wasn't there? "Oh, Chrom! In the game, he can recruit the future kids too, along with their respective main parent."

"Main parent?"

"There's this whole parenthood mechanic." I say. "I'll explain it later. Point is, we can put Chrom in one of those groups. I think I should be able to go in one too. I have Nathan's notes, and that includes all the information he has on support conversations and extra details. I guess it would be a bit intrusive, but if I can memorize that information I should be able to show that I know who Severa is and have her believe me."

"So one more?" Father frowns. "There's no other obvious choice, is there?"

"Not really." I agree. "I guess I could share Nathan's note with you or something, but I don't think Severa would want her secrets spread around."

"Well… if Cordelia is her mother, would it make sense that Severa is familiar with Sumia to some extent?" Father suggests.

"Maybe?" I say. "I mean, worst case scenario Severa doesn't believe Sumia, and Sumia comes and finds one of the other groups. If Severa is on foot, it's not like she'll get far before Sumia brings someone back."

"True." Father agrees. "So Sumia then?"

"Sumia." I affirm.

We spend a few minutes reorganizing the groups before we decide on something that works. Each group needs to be capable, so that's the main balancing act. We fine-tune the groups until Chrom arrives, needing to talk with Father about something.

###

"I'm pretty sure it was "you don't piss into the wind"." Kjelle tries to correct.

"I thought it was skip." Noire mumbles.

"Fairly sure it was spit." I say, frowning. I heard it so many times, more than the others did, so you'd think I'd know.

It's almost embarrassing that I can't remember the lyrics to this song. Nathan sang this one so often I could sing it along with him. There were only a few he'd consistently sing; he tended to cycle though the others so I'd only hear an individual song every month or so, but this one was sung almost daily.

"Why are we even singing one of his stupid songs?" Nah complains.

"I'm singing one of his songs because I happen to enjoy it." I huff.

"Alright everyone!" Chrom calls out. I slip off the crate I was sitting on and try to look properly at attention, like I don't already know what's going to be said. "We're going to go over the plan one last time and announce your groups!"

I listen to Chrom explain that plan that Father thought up and I helped with. I'm with Kellam and Anna. Dad wanted me with him, but I pointed out that we don't need two mages to a squad and he reluctantly agreed. The sole group of four (because we have twenty-eight people and three doesn't divide into twenty eight evenly) ends up being Donnel and Ricken's group, probably with the logic that they're young so they should have an additional person for safety.

Ricken is not amused. Nowi is overjoyed to have him in her group though, and she guilts him with "You don't want to be in a group with me?" to get him to stop complaining.

Devious… or maybe Nowi was seriously worried. It's hard to tell with her.

Maribelle gives Robin a stink-eye when she hears that she is going to be the one trying to keep Ricken, Donnel, and Nowi in line, but really there was no other choice. We wanted a healer in the group and Lissa would probably join in the goofing off rather than stop it, Libra isn't very stern, and Anna isn't exactly what you'd call responsible, so really Maribelle was the only choice.

With our routes planned and as much food and drink as we can support in our backpacks, the Shepherds split and begin searching.

We're all in disguises, and we have orders to pretend to be mercenaries and only purchase supplies if we absolutely have to. Each group has enough supplies for about a week, which should be more than enough to sweep their area and return. If we don't find Severa by then, we'll move to a different part of the island by boat and repeat the process.

I'm anticipating a whole lot of nothing on this trip, but I pray to Naga I'm wrong.

###

I'm not wrong… mostly. Nothing happens due to outside sources, but Anna makes things interesting.

"Come on hun, just a few silver and this could be yours!" Anna says, holding up a nice hat with a pegasus feather sticking out the side. She's one of the few people who isn't disguised simply on the basis that Annas are so universal that attempting to disguise her would be more suspicious than just letting her obviously be an Anna. "Pegasus feathers are rare don't you know! You'll be the most fashionable person in town!"

"I don't got that sort of money, ya greedy imp." The man scoffs. "If you ain't talkin' copper, I ain't buyin'."

"Well that's unfortunate because these are so hard to come by…" Anna says, and pouts her lower lip. She's also flagrantly lying. Pegasus feathers aren't common on the market, but even a regular Ylissian farmer could get their hands on one without too much trouble. Morgan would bet money Anna got that feather by picking it up off the ground after Sumia or Cordelia's pegasus shed it. Anna probably didn't pay a single cent, and now she's trying to gouge for it.

"That doesn't mean I can afford it." The man says, and crosses arms.

"Can't you though?" Anna asks, still with her pouting, innocent look on her face. "You have a such a nice chest- I mean vest, and your boots are clearly of decent quality."

"Well that is true." The man says, and 'casually' smooths back his hair. Anna's manipulation is so painfully obvious, but it's actually working. I'm not sure if I'm surprised, disappointed, or amused.

"And those couldn't have been cheap, right?" Anna asks. "I'm sure those boots cost a pretty silver."

"You're not wrong." The man agrees. "Boots from the finest cobbler on Castaway Island."

Castaway Island, incidentally, is the name of this island. It was also called "the Island of Mutiny" at some point in the past. Doesn't roll off the tongue as well. I can see why they changed it.

"I can see that." Anna flatters. "So naturally I assumed you were someone who could appreciate fine clothing."

"I am!"

"So then you should know I really can't lower the price for this hat, hun." Anna says. "Do you see any pegasi around here?"

"I suppose I don't." The man says. "But four silver is too high! One silver."

"Come on now, I need enough money to take care of myself!" Anna says, and pats her stomach ("coincidentally" drawing attention to her large hips). "I need to eat! And keeping up this look isn't cheap! Surely three gold isn't too high?"

"One and a half." The man says, very obviously dragging his eyes away from her waist. "Food don't cost that much."

"It does when you have a figure to maintain and don't want your hair to be greasy!" Anna replies. "Two, and that's as low as I'll go."

The man mulls over the price, eyeing the pristine pegasus feather sticking out of the hat. He also runs his eyes over Anna again. "Two, huh?"

"Two silver."

"And all it gets me is a hat?"

"And my happiness." Anna offers with a winning smile. "So come on, you know you want it."

"One and seventy?"

"Two hun. No lower."

The man mulls it over, sighs, and digs into his pocket for his wallet. Anna grins, and turns her head to wink at me knowingly. I guess she somehow knew I would be watching.

"Two silver." The man says, almost grudgingly. "For your and your figure."

"Thank you hun!" Anna all but sings. She snatches up the silver and hands him the hat. "A real pleasure doing business with you!"

"I hope so." The man sighs. I can see instant regret on his face as he inspects the hat. It is a nice hat, but I think he realized just how much he paid for something he might not ever use, because let's be honest, the hat is not a working hat, and this man isn't nearly as important as he pretended to be and won't be going to any parties where he'd actually need something slightly ostentatious.

Anna walks away triumphantly with her two silver, and we quickly leave town. Once we're a fair distance away, Anna speaks.

"So what did you think dear?" Anna says to me, still smiling. "Impressed? I knew you were watching closely."

"Impressed is one word for it." I say. "You swindled him pretty hard."

"I didn't swindle anyone!" Anna says, putting a hand to her chest. "It's called haggling and persuasion!"

"Uh-huh, persuasion." I smirk. "And by that you mean seduction, right?"

"Well…" Anna smiles. "Not quite, but you're close."

"You were using flirtation and your body to influence him, that sounds like seduction to me."

Anna waves it off. "Technicalities, but yes, I was doing that. It's quite effective with certain types of men!"

"Yeah, I saw that."

"Did you now? Are you interested?" Anna teases.

"Yes." I say outright. "I am."

"Oh." Anna blinks. I don't think that's the answer she was expecting. "Feeling rebellious already, are we?"

"Rebellious implies Father is in charge of me." I say. "But that's not it. I'm not going to pass up a chance to learn something useful. Just another tool for the toolbox, right?"

Anna smiles, and it looks much more genuine than before. "A girl after my own heart! I'll be happy to teach you, but you should know I don't do anything for free!"

"How much would you be willing to bet I can sell things you can't because I'm just so small and cute?" I ask. "Because let's face it, you're recognizable as an Anna. Me though? I'm just a cute, innocent little girl trying to make some money to support herself."

"So you'll help me sell things?" Anna asks. "You're asking me to put a lot of faith in you here."

"It will only go wrong if you're not a good teacher." I shoot back. "Besides, I can always pay you if I just suck at selling things."

Anna immediately sticks out a hand. "Deal."

"Pleasure doing business." I quip, and shake her hand.

From behind both of us, Kellam sighs deeply and shakes his head.

###

"There are a few approaches." Anna says. "But generally, if you want to minimize the nasty accusations thrown your way, you want to tailor how bold you are to the customer."

"What are the other ways?"

'Well, you could just be absolutely aggressive." Anna says. "Don't take no for an answer, basically throw yourself at them. It can work, but you tend to get in trouble with authorities, and particularly stubborn noblemen tend to take issue with you."

"You speak from experience." I say. It's not a question. I can tell from the small grimace that passed her face that she absolutely has tried doing that before.

"I do." Anna admits. "I had to start somewhere, but I don't recommend it for long-term profits."

"Noted."

"Tailoring your approach, on the other hand, is a bit of an art." Anna says. "You have to do some deduction, and it's intrinsically tied with what you're trying to sell. No amount of winking is going to allow you to sell an iron spade for three and a half gold."

What an oddly specific example. "Did you try to do that too?"

"No." Anna says. "One of my sisters did."

"Wow." I snort.

"It almost worked, believe it or not." Anna says. "But anyhow, you need to tailor your approach. Culture, economic status, probable religion, and anything else you can deduce needs to be taken into account. If you're going to wink at a married man, you want to be fairly sure it will work and you won't have someone yelling at you and driving away other customers."

I nod and write in my notebook. If I'm going to learn something, even "persuasion", I'm going to take it seriously. A skill is a skill, and I'll be damned if I don't learn to use it properly.

"It's more than just being nice." Anna explains. "Though obviously that's a part of it, but you have to be confident and assertive! You won't change anyone's mind if you're shy and simpering."

"No problem there." I say. "You might not have met me before, but I guarantee you confidence isn't an issue."

"Good to hear." Anna says. "Now like I said, persuasion is a bit of an art, so don't take these guidelines as gospel…"

The long and short of it is that young men are easy prey, though you might need a different approach depending on social status.

"Noblemen and aristocrats are a varied bunch." Anna says. "Sometimes you need to play more to their ego, and sometimes you need to play more to their hormones. Sometimes both. The latter tend to be especially easy pickings."

Yeah, I can imagine why. Horny, entitled, and with money to spare? A perfect target.

"You have to be cautious with Ylissians. If they're sufficiently religious, they're likely to react negatively to obvious persuasion." Anna warns. "The whole "pure, chaste, and supportive" expectation tends to get in the way."

Anna has a whole bunch of other little notes that I scribble down. We'll see how applicable these actually are. I'll probably make my own notes and modifications over time. I'm more curious about specific actions than patterns and general notes to be honest. I could have figured out the general stuff myself.

I'm not so foolish as to think my playing around with Nathan means I know anything about persuasion either. Persuasion is manipulation, which is very different from what I was doing with Nathan.

So as much as I nod and listen and write things down, I'm actually waiting for Anna to show her skills in action once again, because that's when I'll learn the most.

I don't have to wait too long. Whenever we come across a town Anna tries to make a sale, and that's my chance to figure things out. It's all the little things I'm looking for. When does she wink? How does she hold herself? When does she feign being flattered, annoyed, or happy? She tends to move her hands a lot, so why is that? Are those a part of her act?

I take note of all of these, and within a few sales my notes on her actions have surpassed the length of her actual attempted lecture.

Anna seems to know this, because it's within the second day that she wants me to try and make a sale. "You've been scribbling every little thing down, so you've clearly figured out some things to try." She says. "So man the stall for an hour, alright? There are a few products here you can try and mark up. Ylissian goldroot spice, some more pegasus feathers, and a few nice ceramic plates from Ferox, among other more mundane things. Try to sell one of the markup items for above two while me and Kellam ask around town for Severa, alright?"

"Okay!" I chirp. "But you won't be around to see if I do well or not."

"If you've made a decent profit and haven't been run out of the square, then I'm going to presume you did well in some capacity." Anna chuckles. "Besides, you're a smart kid. I think you can do a fine self-assessment."

"Not worried about me snagging some of the profits for myself?"

Anna rolls her eyes. "The fact that you even pointed that out suggests you won't, and remember, if I don't get enough profit when you're manning the stall, you promised to pay me. Either way, I'm getting my money."

"Point." I say. Huh, that's something I must have picked up from Nathan. I know I wouldn't have said "point" in response to a good point a few months ago.

And so begins my first attempt at… shopkeeping? Not exactly how I expected I would learn to manipulate people, but if it works then I won't complain.

Despite my incredible intelligence and amazingly adorable face my first attempt at a sale, while successful, is also quite clumsy.

"I've got exotic goods!" I shout, imitating what I've seen Anna do before. "Pegasus feathers and spice!"

Anna spent only minimal time on teaching me how to actually run a stall, so the whole "attracting customers" thing isn't my specialty. Still, with enough shouting I do eventually get someone's attention.

The person in question is a man that looks to be in his thirties with no ring on his fingers ("Always check for a ring!" Anna had told me) simple but well-kept clothes, and a calm demeanor. His hands don't look calloused, so I don't think he's a labourer. Not the easiest target, but not impossible. "Hello Miss. You said you had spices, yes?"

"You betcha hun! Ylissian goldroot spice!" I say cheerfully, holding up the pouch containing it. "Straight from the south of Ylisse! It doesn't have the strongest taste at first, but the aftertaste is something else!"

"I'll take your word for it." He says with a small nod. "What's your price?"

"Five silver!"

"Please, Miss, don't joke with me."

"Who says I'm joking?" I chirp. "This is premium stuff hun! You wouldn't have me give away something so valuable for mere copper, would you?"

"But five silver is surely far too much!"

"Then what do you think is a good price?" I ask. I lean on the stall and smirk. "Since you're so smart?"

"One silver."

"A single silver?" I gasp, and put a hand on my chest. "For all the effort I spent to get this here?"

"It cannot have been that expensive."

"Do you know how much the boat trip to get to this island cost?" I ask. "It's not cheap! And I had to travel all the way across Plegia to get here. I need more than a mere one silver to recoup my investment! With one silver I won't even be able to feed myself!" Taking a leaf out of Anna's book, I bring a hand down to my stomach, naturally dragging his eyes down with the motion. It's a lot less effective for me, because I have a bulky generic cloak on and I don't have Anna's large hips.

Hmm… what am I supposed to draw attention to then? What do I have that I can show off? If I think I'm really cute, maybe I should be drawing attention to my face, or maybe a focus on full-body action to emphasize my short height? I'm gonna have to do some testing.

I know Anna said this was an art, but even so there has to be some consistent techniques I can use. Art isn't "do whatever and hope it works". There are still techniques and principles to apply.

"One silver is enough for a month worth of food." The man says with a frown.

"And I still need to travel back home!" I say. "That's costly! I have to make this worth my while!"

"That sounds like a problem for you, not me." He says.

Rude. I mean, he's totally right, but that's still rude. "With an attitude like that, you'll never get any Ylissian goods. This stuff comes from a long way away, so it's going to cost more. That's just business hun."

"But five silver for a pouch of spice?"

"Hun, you're a cutie, but if you're going to haggle do it properly rather than just repeating the price over and over." I say bluntly. "If you're only going to complain at me, go somewhere else."

That gets a scowl out of him. "Not much of a businesswoman, are you?"

"Oh I am, and that's why I'm insisting you not rip me off." I say, tilting my head up. "I'm not taking a price that literally isn't worth my time."

I'm not actually being too unreasonable when I say that. Getting here was extremely time consuming, and who knows how much money Anna missed out on making by being on the boat for two months. Selling this for a mere silver would be a rip-off. A farmer could have probably made a silver and a bit in this amount of time, but he makes his own food and whatnot and a merchant doesn't. Combine that with the fact that Ylissian goldroot spice isn't the cheapest thing (not expensive, but not a pittance) and there's no way she could even try to justify selling this for less than two silver.

If you want foreign stuff, you gotta be willing to pay. That's just how it is.

"Fine." The man says. "One and a half."

"Hun…" I sigh in exaggerated disappointment. It feels weird calling this guy "hun", but that's what Anna did.

"Two."

"Better. How about four seventy?"

"Two and ten."

Oh please. Ten more copper? That's not enough. "And you were doing so well." I tut. "Four fifty."

"Two fifty."

"Hmm…" I say. "Multiple months of travel here, multiple going back, and a mere two fifty for a decently expensive item back home? I'll be honest hun, I'm looking at four as just about the lowest I'll go."

The man glowers a bit. "Well I'm not paying four. Three fifty, and I'm being generous here."

That's more like it. "Well I did say four was about the lowest I'd go, and three fifty is a full half silver under that mark." I muse, letting him stir in irritation for a moment. "Three seventy-five?"

"Not doing."

"Three seventy." I say. "Final offer. I'm not going lower."

"That's still too high!" He complains. I stare at him impassively, unfazed by his borderline anger.

"I said final offer hun. Take it or leave it. I'm sure I can find someone else willing to pay four, maybe five, for good Ylissian spice." I say. And frankly, his attitude doesn't make me inclined to be more flexible. I probably would have settled for somewhere in the low threes, but this guy is annoying me.

"Three fifty five?" He asks, now almost pleadingly.

"Nope."

"Sixty?"

"No chance. Three seventy or nothing."

He agonizes over the price for a moment, and I rub it in by toying with the spice bag right in front of him while looking him dead in the eye.

"Fine." He says after a moment, and all but slams down three silver and seventy copper. "Give me the damn spice."

I toss it to him, and he scrambles to make sure it doesn't fall. I really don't care that he glares murder at me while leaving. Good riddance.

Approximately twenty seconds after that exchange, as I'm going through it in my head, I let out a quiet groan. "I didn't use persuasion at all…"

More accurately, my only attempt to do so failed. I never thought I'd be unhappy that someone cared more about my logic and bargaining skills than my appearance.

My other sales have similar results, where I have to fall back to logic and bargaining. I make good money, but fail at what I was trying to achieve.

###

I spend the next several days refining my "persuasion" skills to moderate effect. Few of Anna's techniques work for me, so I have to figure out my own and they work alright, but there's definitely a need for refinement.

I still keep careful notes on Anna's techniques, just in case they'll be useful in the future when I hopefully start to grow and my current techniques no longer work.

"Now don't say anything to your father, alright?" Anna says with a smile and a wink. "I don't want him giving me extra stable duty for corrupting his daughter."

"My lips are sealed." I say.

All the Shepherds return to the boat slowly over the course of the day. My group is one of the first. I suspect Father gave me a particularly easy route to travel. Noire's group is next, followed by Nah's, Kjelle's, and Laurent's.

Then comes all the other Shepherds, including a very annoyed Maribelle. No one has Severa with them… until Sumia's group comes back, because of course the person we were most unsure would be capable of convincing Severa was the person to find Severa. But she must have succeeded because Severa is here.

And oh Naga, she's a bitch. I thought Kjelle was annoying, but Severa does nothing but whine and throw accusations at her mother for things Cordelia has not done. She's even rude to her friends, huffing off their happiness and concern as if obviously they shouldn't have been concerned, and they're so rude for implying she can't take care of herself, and-

You get the point. Maybe this is just first impressions, but yikes, I don't want to be anywhere near her. Problem child alert.

###

"Too much energy input results in an imprecise cut." Miriel narrates out loud, and Laurent scribbles it down. "And too little results in insufficient cutting force."

The current test involves using concentrated wind magic to act as a scalpel, which Miriel is carefully manifesting inside a small wooden box.

I wasn't aware you could manifest combat-based spells on the other side of an object from yourself, so this is very informative for me. I'm taking my own notes as Miriel works, mostly in deciphering the spell circles she uses. The "code" within (as Nathan would put it) is quite interesting.

Miriel opens up the wooden box, removes the ruined wooden… thing within, and replaces it with another before closing the box.

The wooden object in the box is an odd cluster of rounded bulbs, kind of like a cluster of berries, and the objective of each experiment is to precisely remove one bulb without damaging the others. To do this, Miriel needs a precision spell, but she also needs to sustain a scrying spell that lets her see inside the box at the same time.

Morgan was also unaware that you could sustain two spells at the same time, so that's news to her. Miriel did warn that it isn't exactly easy though, and the spells have to be low-power. You can't get away with casting bolganone and thoron at the same time.

"Being able to cast two spells at the same time whatsoever is already quite impressive." Laurent had murmured. "Please though, do not be attempting such a thing without guidance. It can be quite dangerous."

I guess I'll leave the precision surgery to Miriel and the healers then. I'm not good with wind anyways, and I don't even know the basics of scrying. Besides, I probably shouldn't operate on myself.

"I think, perhaps, this is an issue of insufficient focus." Miriel says after a moment of consideration. She opens the box and takes out the wooden object and places it on the table. "There is little reason I should not be able to restrict the cutting point of a blade with greater energy. Allow me to see if this is feasible without scrying."

Miriel takes a moment to concentrate and begins casting the scalpel spell again. A thin blade of wind, the cutting edge thinner than a pencil tip and the whole spell as small as a quarter of an ant (and yes, I'm talking about the insect), appears near the wooden object. It's barely visible, but with immaculate control, Miriel carefully cuts into one of the bulbs on the wooden object and it drops onto the table without an audible sound. Miriel then stops the spell and investigates with a magnifying glass.

"Cut is smooth, within acceptable parameters." Miriel murmurs.

"Then dual casting is the issue?" Laurent clarifies. "You cannot control the wind spell to an acceptable degree while also scrying?"

"Precisely." Miriel says. "Laurent, I shall require your assistance. You shall scry for me while I attempt the spell."

"Understood." The two of them go about setting up another attempt, taking yet another wooden object and putting it in the box.

"The image your scrying shows must be to scale." Miriel reminds him. "Or I shall not be able to create a blade of the appropriate size."

It takes a few attempts before they can get the scrying spell to an acceptable degree of accuracy, and a few more before Miriel can properly control the intensity of the wind blade on the inside of the box, but they do succeed, and once they have done it once they are quite consistent in executing the procedure multiple time.

I still can't help but be a bit nervous. The thought that Miriel will be carefully controlling a blade of wind inside my skull is disconcerting to say the least. At least I don't have to worry about the tools being clean, because it's magic.

It's beyond her how Nathan could consider this sort of stuff normal. I don't care that there are dedicated brain surgeons in his world, and not that I don't trust it's true, but the concept is still freaky to me.

Another major part of doing this sort of surgery is the healing magic. Even if the cut is small and shouldn't be hitting anything even mildly important, you don't want an open wound in your brain, so healing magic is required to make quick work of the cut.

I do have a question about that though, and when Maribelle is discussing details with Miriel, Laurent, and myself, I pipe in with a question. "How do we know the healing spell won't just heal the tumor back? Like it or not, that tumor is a part of me."

"Healing spells are odd things." Maribelle says. "They cannot magically recreate body parts to any major extent. Perhaps they could replace a lost fingertip, but anything more than that they will merely heal as the body would, which is to say if you lost a full arm the spell would heal to give you a stub at your shoulder."

"How does that-?"

"Do not interrupt." Maribelle huffs. "As such, unless your body considers that tumor to be normal, as in it will attempt to regrow it, there is no reason the spell should bring it back. From what we are aware, a tumor is a fluke in cell growth, and while a heal spell will not eliminate such a thing from your body as it is not an injury, the spell should also not regrow it unless there is some deeper defect in your… genetic code, I believe the term is?"

"Yeah, that's the term." I affirm. That's reassuring to hear, I think. At least if there is some greater problem with my genetic code, the tumor was relatively benign to begin with and bringing it back won't change anything.

"If the details have been sorted." Miriel says. "I do not see any reason we cannot attempt the operation as soon as we make landfall to find Yarne, when we have a stable surface to work on."

Ah ha. Ha. Okay, this is happening much sooner than I expected. I'm not about to refuse, but I thought I thought we'd be waiting until we got back home. No time like the present I guess?

"Should we not be waiting until we return home, Mother?" Laurent asks.

"We could." Miriel says. "However, we do not require a specialized environment, so this operation is entirely feasible to do on any stable land. The operation could be done right now, seeing as we have not had issues in practice, but waiting for landfall is smart simply for an added layer of safety. I suppose the decision is truely up to Morgan, however, and not us."

Naturally, all eyes turn to me. I debate for a moment if it would be irresponsible to do the operation when we make landfall, and it might be just a bit, but by all means there should be few if any side-effects, and healing magic will make sure I am fit to work within a minute of the operation being finished.

Maybe it's still a bit irresponsible, but honestly I just want this over with by this point. Best to get this done now then stress about it the whole way back on the boat. "We can do it when we make landfall. Let's get it over with."

The others nod in understanding.

###

It only occurs to me as I sit down on the crate with Laurent preparing the scrying spell how lucky I am. I get this for free on the basis of being a test case. Admittedly the resources for this operation are not expensive, there is no need for mana generators or gems, but it does require one mage who is highly skilled with wind magic (Miriel is skilled with all anima magic, so she covers that) another mage who can scry with the image being accurate in terms of proportions, and practiced coordination between those two mages to pull this off, not to mention a healer on hand.

Not to mention the knowledge of a civilization well ahead of ours in technology such that we can know that removing parts of your brain is actually possible to do with a degree of safety. This wouldn't have happened without Miriel and Nathan specifically, so yeah, I'm incredibly lucky.

That will be something to tell Nathan. "Oh hey, so, using your notes we casually figured out brain surgery. No big deal."

I mean, it's not actually that simply. Miriel is going to have to have pinpoint accuracy to avoid nicking a vein or artery or the bone around my pituitary gland, or simply to avoid cutting too deep. Laurent needs to sustain two scrying displays at the same time, one outside view and one cross-section of the stalk of my gland to figure out where the tumor ends and the veins and pathways of the gland starts, and both scrying displays have to be perfectly to scale… so yeah. I say "casually", but this is only as casual as it is because both Miriel and Laurent are scarily competent mages, Miriel is a genius, and we're only removing excess tissue rather than trying to reconnect nerves or something even more insanely precise.

"The scrying spells are complete." Laurent says quietly, staring at the displays in front of him. He and Miriel did a few more rounds of testing with the wood boxes for practice before this because the first few spells of the day that need to be this precise tend to be slightly off, so they wanted to get everything down consistently before doing the actual operation.

"It's fine." I remind myself, consciously staying as still as possible. Not that I could move if I wanted to. I was actually inflicted with a paralysis spell before this started to make sure I wouldn't move an inch and mess things up. "Miriel literally recreated a spell that can rearrange the cells of someone's body. A precision cut is nothing."

Even so, I close my eyes (one of the few parts of my body I do have control of). I don't want to know what's happening. I'm just going to close my eyes and try not to listen to what's happening.

I blot out whatever Miriel and Maribelle are saying, I've already given the go-ahead. The only sign I have that anything is happening is a slight feeling of pressure inside my head, then five seconds later a bit of light-headedness strikes me (which I presume is Miriel initiating a short-range teleport to take the cut-off tumor out of my head), and then four seconds after that I feel the cool sensation of healing magic wash over me.

"It is done." Laurent reports. I open my eyes, and perhaps sensing that I want to see, Laurent turns the display to show me. "The healing magic acted as expected. The tumor was not recreated. If you feel any additional headaches, light-headedness, or other side-effects, please inform us."

Miriel, in the meantime, deactivates the paralysis spell to allow me to move again. I stand up shakily. Not because of the operation itself, but because of how intensely nervous and tense I was, and releasing that tension lets me feel just how much holding in that stress actually tired me out.

I'm not sure if I was expecting to feel anything different, but I don't. I feel exactly the same. I mean, I guess that's for good reason considering the tumor was mostly benign to begin with and the brain doesn't have many "feeling" nerves in it, but still… you think you'd be able to feel a part of you being cut off.

Thankfully, nothing major happens on the first day, so I have plenty of time to recover from my stress. We search for information on the Stonewall Knights and Riders of Dawn, which are the main players in Yarne's paralogue. We're more interested in the Stonewall Knights since Yarne (according to Nathan's notes) is a part of that group.

"Of course he'd join a group like that." Severa scoffs under her breath upon learning this in the briefing. "A bunch of big men with shields. Perfect for him to hide behind."

We all put on our disguises and split up to reach villages to search for information, and I quickly discover that everyone and their mother has something to say about the Stonewall Knights and the Riders of Dawn, and apparently they're a very recent presence in the area.

"Deserters." An old man spits when I talk to him. "Takin' advantage of the king bein' dead to go rogue and start their own gang. Oh they might call 'emselves mercenaries, but I ain't fooled. I know standard issue military armor when I see it."

Interesting. All of the paralogues supposedly appear on the game map after the two year timeskip, so that means these deserters are still successfully operating even after Validar takes over. Assuming, of course, this world follows the game accurately enough. I wonder if the deserters were forgotten about or irrelevant, or if Validar actually had a use for their antics.

Maybe… uh… the chaos of these deserters drives people towards religion for help, in other words towards Grima? I dunno. Nathan is usually the one for guessing motives, not me. All his psychology stuff and general experience makes him way more suited to guessing this stuff than me.

Very few people can actually point us towards either group, mostly because they'd rather not think about the two powerful gangs hanging over their heads and how powerless they are to do anything about it. As long as the gangs aren't here, they don't care where they are otherwise.

Note, however, that I said "very few" and not no one. There is someone willing to help us, though…

"A peculiar group, you are." The man whispers. His heavy cloak obscures most of his body, but his wrinkled, scarred, grinning mouth is visible from underneath the hood. The large eye of Grima on the front of his hood is hard to ignore. This man could not be more obviously grimleal if he tried. "But I can show you the group you wish to find. They've been causing trouble around here in an unappreciated fashion."

If we weren't in disguise, I'd consider jamming a sword in his back as soon as we get our information out of him. Also, I guess this means that the local grimleal don't like these groups either.

You know, assuming all the grimleal in the area are working together, which they aren't necessarily.

"That implies there is appreciated trouble, friend." Chrom says. He masks any distaste he might have masterfully. "But we'll gladly take your help."

The grin on the man's face grows wider, if possible. "Ah, of course, friend. It will only take a few hours. The Stonewall Knights are not nearly as far away as the villagers might want to believe."

"You can't get far in heavy armor!" I chirp.

"Precisely…" The man agrees. "Now, gather up your little group, and we'll be on our way."

It doesn't take long using Cordelia and Sumia to round up the other Shepherds, and we can quickly get underway. This part of Plegia is surprisingly un-sandy. The ground is hard-packed and dusty with a dullish yellow-brown color to it with dull grass sprouting up in clumps, and as we are led further out from the town we can see more and more grass and eventually even some patchy areas of trees. I don't see a river anywhere nearby, so either this place gets some rainfall, or the ground filters out the salt from the ocean water as it comes in and that's where these trees are drinking from.

I mean, maybe. I'm not a botanist… ecologist…? Something. There are too many "ists" out there. Most of which I learned from Nathan now that I think of it.

The grimleal also makes a point to lead us into the tree clusters, and instructs the pegasus riders to remain on the ground.

"Do you see that outcrop, on the top of the hill?" The grimleal says, pointing with one arm. The gesture looks grand despite the mundanity of it because of his baggy sleeves trailing behind him and emphasizing the motion.

"I do." Father says, squining up at the rock. The sun is in our eyes, making it a bit hard to see.

"The Stonewall Knights frequently post a sentry there." The grimleal explains in a whisper. Indeed, I can see someone standing on the rock. "In addition, walk with caution. The knights themselves are not stealthy, but their fort is well hidden by trees and bushes just beyond the outcrop."

"Understood." Chrom nods. "Our thanks once more, friend."

"Of course." The grimleal says, and grins again. "May Master Grima have pity on us, and condemn those irritating knights."

Several of the Shepherds tense up at those words, but again Chrom shows himself to have solid emotional control and he simply nods at the words and waves the Shepherds to gather around him as the Grimleal makes his way back to the town.

"Robin?" Chrom whispers.

"Got it. Gaius."

"You want me to take out the sentry, right Boss?"

"No, I want you to find this fort. If it is as well camouflaged as the grimleal claimed, then we need your eyes to spot it." Father says. "Noire."

"Y-Yes?!" Noire squeaks. I don't think any of us expected her to be called upon.

"How close do you have to be to be able to kill that sentry in one shot consistently?"

"I…" Noire squints up at the rock, then sticks a finger in her mouth and holds it up, feeling for wind. "Mmm… if we move out into the open, I can shoot from further away, around this distance, because the wind will be at my back. If we move around the other side I'll need to be closer but we can stay in the forest. We can't stay here. The sun in my eyes makes it too difficult."

"We don't want to risk getting out in the open." Robin says. "So we'll move around the other side. Panne, you're on point. Make sure there's no one around as we move."

"Understood." Panne says.

Gaius breaks off from our group to sneak ahead, and Panne moves to the front. Everyone is on edge as we march forwards. Sully, Stahl, and Frederick take pains to keep their horses quiet, and Cordelia and Sumia's pegasi walk gingerly on the ground, seeming to understand the situation.

Oh, oh, right. That's something Nathan wanted to know. He wasn't sure how intelligent pegasi were. I should find out later. That would be nice to be able to tell him when he gets back.

We make our way around the north side of the outcrop without issue, and get in close enough for Noire to feel she can shoot accurately against the wind. Everyone holds their breath as Noire draws her bow, aiming straight at the sentry at first, then adjusting her aim slightly to the left to account for the wind not being totally head-on.

Noire exhales deeply, makes a final adjustment without taking another breath (so her breathing can't subtly alter the arrow trajectory), and releases her shot.

A second later the sentry falls off the rock, and we don't hear any shouting. The Shepherds collectively release their helds breaths, a few people pat a bashful Noire on the back, and we make our way around the outcrop,

Gaius meets us there, appearing from out behind a tree. "Our "friend" wasn't kidding, I didn't see the fort until I was two feet from it. More of a bunker than a fort really. It's pretty low to the ground for a fort. The walls are only a bit taller than Freddy here on his horse."

"Thank you Gaius, show us the way."

"Yarne better not attack us before recognizing who we are." Severa grumbles.

"H-He wouldn't do that." Noire stammers.

"He's not the most aware person ever." Severa snorts. "He would."

"No, he'll run." Kjelle responds flatly. "This is Yarne we're talking about."

Actually, according to Nathan's notes on the game, Yarne will attack, but let's not shake the boat anymore.

"Remember, don't risk identifying yourself. No battlecries about Ylisse or anything." Father warns quietly.. "We don't want to risk one of them escaping and suddenly all of Plegia knows the Shepherds were here."

Gaius wasn't kidding about the fort. It's well-disguised because the knights apparently used boulders to build it and then camouflaged the fact that it was a whole wall with strategically planted bushes. From any one area, it just looks like a few boulders in the middle of the forest which really isn't that unusual.

That also, however, means we can just climb the wall because there are handholds. These are boulders, not smooth, sculpted fortifications. Without the benefit of being hidden, there are objectively inferior walls.

We can hear noise beyond the walls. Faint talking, the sound of animals, and the clank of armor.

We make the decision to climb over the walls, meaning our cavaliers and great knights have to leave their horses behind. Gaius climbs first and peeks over the top of the boulder.

"Four of them." He whispers back to us. "Only a few meters away."

Oh, so if one of us sneezed right now, they'd hear us. Yikes.

Father waves everyone in, and then whispers. "We want multiple people climbing it at once. Frederick, Kellam, Sully, Stahl, Chrom, find a rock to climb over. Sumia, Cordelia, Nowi, Nah, take to the air. Everyone else, climb in behind them. Panne, ignore the fighting, find Yarne."

Everyone else nods, gets into position, and our first wave climbs the walls.

Then all hell breaks loose, because of course it couldn't be that simple.

The frontline hits the ground with weapons drawn as our fliers soar overhead. Javelins from Cordelia and Sumia make quick work of the group Gaius noticed, but that doesn't solve all of our problems. There's still the rest of the group. Even the two dragons now circling overhead doesn't deter them, and a call to arms sounds through the camp.

Ten generals promptly stomp out from a wooden meeting hall, accompanied by five sages and five swordmasters. We might outnumber them, but those are all elite troops.

"Panne." Father barks.

"I heard you before manspawn." The taguel growls. She transforms and darts off to to the side.

"Everyone forward! Noire, Nowi, Nah, take out those sages! Mages, the generals! Everyone else, run interference!" Father barks.

"Kellam, Kjelle, keeps those swordmasters busy!" I add. "Don't let them get to the backline!"

"As she said!" Father says, making sure I'm not brushed off. I'm a bit annoyed that he has to do that, because some of the Shepherds would probably ignore me otherwise, but I can deal with that issue later.

As soon as I start casting, I can see a problem. These are soldiers. Deserters, yes, but soldiers, and elite ones at that. They aren't about to stand there and let us blast them to pieces. The first thing the sages do is whip out ward staves and enchant the generals, and the generals step in front of the sages and block all the incoming attacks.

Well that's a problem. "Father, please tell me we have hammers, or armorslayers."

"Vaike has one."

"Only one?"

"Yes." Father grimaces. "I was planning on our mages doing the work."

Fair enough. That's a problem though.

We pelt the generals with spells anyways, because ward doesn't mean they're immune to magic, but of course sages can also heal so that doesn't do too much.

"Cordelia, Sumia! Attack from the rear!" Father barks. "Target those sages!"

Our pegasus knights soar overhead, only to sharply bank away as arrows snap through the air. More reinforcements pour out of a stairway built into the ground, including a pair of snipers.

"This is getting out of hand." I mutter. I cast an elthunder spell, this time pointing at a sniper… who ducks behind the generals. "Come on."

Kjelle and Kellam are fairing slightly better with the swordmasters, especially with some backup from Sully and Stahl. Swords bounce off the armor of the knights, and Sully and Stahl stab anyone who tries to slip by.

Chrom, Lon'qu, Vaike and the like are having issues trying to do anything against the generals. The Shepherds are (smartly) staying out of range of the generals' silver spears (fun fact, they're not actually made of silver despite the name! Silver isn't a great choice for weaponry. Too brittle. The spears just have some silver ornamentation), but that also means they're not making a lot of progress on the "killing things" front.

I switch to elfire, hoping the burst of fire upon impact can maybe sneak some hits towards the sages and snipers. In a surprise to all of us, one of the sages topples to the floor, an arrow sprouting from his forehead. Noire managed to sneak a shot past the generals' shields.

I wish I could say it was a feat of tactics that allowed us to eventually get through the Stonewall Knights, but to be honest it was all Nowi and Nah. We battered down the generals with brute force, because we have dragons. The sages can't outheal dragonfire plus our mages while also dodging the shots Noire manages to sneak past the shields. After two generals fall, Chrom and the other melee fighters can move in and swarm the rest. It's a success for the Shepherds, but a failure for us tacticians. We didn't win by being smart, we threw dragonfire at their faces until they died.

It's a win that doesn't feel like much of a win to me and Father. The other Shepherds don't care as long as we all get out alive, but we tacticians have to hold ourselves to higher standards. We failed in our duties.

Panne drags Yarne up the stairs, out from underground. She's in giant rabbit form, carrying his "human" form by the collar of his armor. Like a cat carrying a kitten… except they're rabbits.

Kjelle has a disapproving frown to share with Yarne, and Severa has some choice words, but Nah and Noire are just happy to see him and don't harp on his cowardice. Laurent deals with the situation stoically, asking after his health, what date he arrived in this world, and all the basic details.

I leave my introduction for another time. I'm busy thinking about how we could have handled that fight differently.

Me and Father discuss tactics all the way back to the boat, and spend the afternoon agonizing over what we could have done, because "smash it with dragons" is not an acceptable answer to all our problems.

###

"I still don't understand why you had to time it as you did, or why you had to go through with it at all." Father says. "I'm not frustrated so much as I am confused, and concerned. It seems like an unnecessary risk."

Father is having a bit of a difficult time wrapping his head around my little operation. I'm surprised he waited until after it happened to bring this up. Maybe my whole "I'm an adult!" speech made him feel like he shouldn't speak up before. "It wasn't as much of a risk as you might think Father. It's not like Miriel was removing something inside my brain, it was on the surface, and we had a healer on hand in case anything went wrong."

"But why did that risk have to be taken?" Father asks. "You said yourself that it was benign, there was no reason to risk trying to remove it in an experimental surgery."

I understand where he's coming from, I really do. What parent wouldn't be worried about their child undergoing such a thing if it weren't absolutely necessary? "That's not true though. There was a reason. I didn't want to feel like there was something wrong with me, like I was missing out on something that should happen. It's not that I couldn't have lived without the operation or anything, I would have eventually accepted my situation, but I wasn't going to pass up the chance to grow! I don't know how to explain it really, but this wasn't something I could not do."

I don't think Father understands all that well, but I can't really blame him. It's more of a feeling of necessity than something I can use logic to justify.

"Besides, Mirel recreated a spell that can literally disassemble and reassemble someone's body. A precision cut is not beyond her. We also had Maribelle there for safety."

"I know." Father sighs. "I know, I know…"

"But it still seems crazy to you."

"Not crazy exactly, just reckless."

"I want my body to be in my control, Father." I say. My reasoning isn't too different from Nathan's I suppose. "I want my body to be mine, I want to be comfortable in my own skin, and I wasn't going to tolerate the feeling that I was missing some part of myself if I didn't have to."

"I suppose I can understand that." Father says after a moment's consideration. "But you couldn't have waited…?"

"I wanted to get it over with." I say sheepishly. "It was a bit nerve-wracking knowing that was in my future, but yeah, I probably could have waited."

"Perhaps I'm letting you be a little too independent, hmm? Scheduling clearly isn't your forte."

I'm slightly offended for a second, but his smile tips me off that he's making a joke. That's rare for Father. He's usually so serious. "Hey, at least I know what I want! By the way, when are you going to find a hot lady to marry? I need someone to thank for my good looks!"

"And here I thought the parents were supposed to tell the kids to get married already." Father sighs dramatically. "What has the world come to?"

"It's come to me, obviously! The world bends to my will! A goddess am I!"

"As if I didn't already have enough to deal with, and now I'm raising a goddess?" Father says. "Raise the bar any higher and I won't be able to manage."

"All the more reason for you to find someone, hmm?" I tease. "You can't possibly deal with me on your own."

Father lightly rolls his eyes. "I'll take that under advisement."

"No pressure though." I chirp. "It's not like I'd be any less chaotic if I had a mother!"

"Well that just removes all incentive to get married, doesn't it?" Father says.

Ahh, I've missed being able to do this, even if this is very tame compared to what I'm used to. I can't exactly make lewd jokes with my own father after all.

###

"Hi! I'm Morgan! I'm objectively the best person ever!" I chirp as my introduction to Yarne. "You're Yarne, right? Do you give rides? Do you like carrots? Do you like board games? I like board games. Board games are great, like me."

Yarne looks like I threatened to cut off his tail, not like I gave an amazing and perfect introduction like I obviously did. Nathan's notes were right, he's a nervous wreck, and that's coming from someone who is themself a nervous wreck so you know it's bad. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"I'm Morgan, I just said that!" I say cheerfully. "And I want to touch your ears, because they look sooo soft! Can I? Can I? Please?"

"No! They're mine! I'm an endangered species, not a petting zoo!"

"I know! That's why I asked first rather than just paying you!" I say. "Unless you want money. I'll totally pay for it!"

"No!"

"Aww…" I frown. "Does this mean you won't be my friend?"

"What?"

"My friend! D. You know what those are, right? Most people have at least one."

"Of course I know what friends are!"

"Yaaay! New friend!" I say, and hug the bewildered taguel. "So now I can touch your ears, right?"

"St-Stay back fiend!" Yarne yelps, and tries to push me away.

"Nooo, it's friend!" I say, holding on tight. "You forgot the R!"

"You're crazy!"

"Well yeah, obviously!" I frown. "Who isn't?"

"Me!"

"But you're shouting at a friend. Only crazy people shout at friends. That means you're crazy." I say matter-of-factly.

Yarne looks utterly baffled and just a little bit afraid, so I decide to drop my act now that I've had my fun, and I release him from my grip. "So, hi again, I'm Morgan. I'm Robin's future kid. I'm from a different dimension than the rest of you. Amnesiac too. I've heard all about you from my boyfriend. You'll meet him some other time. His story is even weirder than mine."

"Oh." Yarne says. "Are you not actually crazy?"

"I wouldn't go that far." I say with a smile. "I do want to touch your ears, but I won't if you don't want me to."

"Please don't."

Worth a try. "Alright. Can we be friends though? Being friends is fun."

"Will you be less weird if I say yes?"

"Nope! But I'll be more friendly!"

I can see Yarne metally debating if "more friendly" is a good thing, but at some point he decides that saying no is probably more trouble than it's worth. "Sure…"

"Yay! New friend!" I cheer. "Do you want to play a game? I have some board games! How about sparring? We can do that too! I'd love to study your style and techniques!"

"L-Let's just play a game…"

"Ooh, okay! You should try chess! It's so fun! I'll go grab it!"

Predictably, Yarne sucks at chess. He's also nervous the whole time for some reason. Maybe he's afraid of just how smart I am!

That's totally the reason, and not because our introduction involved me being super weird because I thought it was fun.

Chapter Text

If Nathan asks, I did not fall out of the top bunk four times on our trip back to Ylisse. I can hear the jokes about me rolling into fire right now. Father unintentionally rubs it in every time by being concerned that I got into a fight or fell when the ship lurched.

Fine universe, I swapped with Noire to the bottom bunk! Happy now?

With less irritation, I'll admit that I've been making use of the heating stone Nathan gave me. Not because I'm cold or anything, but because sleeping by myself feels very… lonely. I don't know exactly why the feeling is only starting to strike now, because I've slept without Nathan literally in the same bed as me plenty of times, but for some reason I feel lonely and having the warm stone next to me sort of simulates the heat of another body being there.

I'm pretty sure "sleeping aid" was not something the stone was intended for, but that's what it's doing.

In other news, Nah has been shooting me annoyed looks fairly often lately, and I have no idea why. She's been poking her head in on Miriel's work fairly often too, though she never stays.

There's something afoot here, and I want to know what it is. I can't have my magic lessons (or more specifically: me taking meticulous notes of what Miriel and Laurent are doing) interrupted by a mildly peeved dragon girl.

So I investigate. Every time she shoots me a grumpy look, I call her out on it and ask why. Every time she pokes her head in on Miriel's work, I greet her and ask why she's there rather than just ignoring her like before. When Nah doesn't answer and starts hiding her glares and subtly peeking in on Miriel's work rather than being overt, I have to take other measures.

By other measures, of course, I mean asking the other future kids about it. Why do your own research when you can just get the information from other people? I could be sneaky about it, watching her every move and become super detective Morgan… or I could just ask.

Kjelle's response to my questions is to sigh deeply. "Again? This happens every time… and you already have a boyfriend too."

I don't immediately understand what that means. "She has a crush on me?"

"No. Naga no. That would make things way too simple." Kjelle grumbles. "She likes Laurent, and has for two years at this point, and still hasn't done anything about it but glare at other people she feels are "stealing" her time with him."

Ooh, okay. So her poking her head into the room has nothing to do with Miriel's work at all, it's just that Laurent is there. That's really cute and sort of creepy at the same time. "Does he have any idea?"

"No. Somehow." Kjelle sighs. "He's sharp as a nail, even when it comes to romance, except when it involves himself."

I can't help but grin. I definitely need to keep an eye on the two of them, if just to watch the show. "Thanks for the info."

"Don't go messing with them." Kjelle warns in a tired voice. "It just causes more trouble. We'd know. Inigo has tried."

"Trouble meaning drama, or trouble meaning people's hair catches fire?"

"Drama. Lots of shouting from Nah." Kjelle says. "It's not worth it."

"I'll take your word for it." I say. "But I'll be the judge of that. I might push a little bit, just to see what happens."

###

Kjelle is wrong. It's absolutely worth it. All I had to do was mention off-hand to Laurent that Nah "seemed concerned about something" and watch as he started to notice all the times she spied on us. He would then try to talk to Nah to see if something was wrong, and of course Nah always tried to come up with an excuse for why she was "just passing by" the room, which only made Laurent more worried because he thought she was hiding something, and so he becomes even more aware of the little things she does like shooting glances at him, and confronts her about those, and the whole cycle keeps going.

It's wonderful to watch Nah bumble through talking to Laurent. Her serious, somewhat haughty demeanor completely goes out the window (even though it's clear she's trying really hard to look dignified and calm) and she ends up bumbling and stammering and it's the best entertainment a girl could ask for.

Kjelle gives me the stink eye exactly one day after I give Laurent the nudge, and all I can do is shrug guiltily and smile.

###

"M-Morgan." Noire stutters. "D-Do you want to play a game?"

Those words might sound unimportant, but I'm here to tell you that they are. Noire very rarely talks to me. She doesn't dislike me or anything as far as I'm aware, but we don't talk much. We're not similar. I think I have too much energy for her. That's what makes this important, because I have no idea why she's suggesting this at all.

Not that I'm about to refuse or anything. "Sure! What do you want to play?" I ask, and lean forward. "Chess? I have a copy. Did Nathan ever teach you chess? I also have barrels, or checkers, or-"

"Ch-Chess works."

"Okay!" I dive into my pack and pull out the small chess set. "Do you want white or black? White is better, because the first move grants you an advantage, so maybe you should take that because it will even the playing field a bit, though if the skill difference is big enough it won't matter, so maybe I should take a handicap, or-"

"I'll take white." She whispers. "Let's play normally."

I quickly set up my side as Noire hesitantly fumbles the white pieces into place. I think it must have been a while since she played because she gets the position of king and queen wrong.

I play through the first few moves quickly. I've found a set of opening moves I happen to like, so against an easy opponent like Noire I can just throw out those moves without any consideration for what she's doing.

"So." Noire says quietly after the fifth turn. "A-Are you and Yarne getting along well?"

"Yarne is fun! He plays with me sometimes, but I don't think we have all that much in common." I say. "I want to touch his ears, they look so soft, but he won't let me."

"I… right." Noire says. Her expression shows surprise though.

"Did I say something weird?"

She starts to shake her head, then hesitates and says. "Not for you."

"So it would be weird for someone else?"

"Slightly." Noire admits. "It's not all the time I hear someone talking about how much they want to touch someone they don't know that well."

"When you put it that way, I guess it is weird." I admit. I'm so used to voicing almost anything that comes to my mind with Nathan, I guess it didn't occur to me that it would be odd to say it otherwise. Not everyone is a close friend and I can say whatever I want in front of them and have it be normal.

"I-I don't want to sound mean though." Noire says hastily. "Maybe I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, it's fine. It's probably good that you did." I admit. It does make me miss Nathan though. There's currently no one in my life that I can run my mouth in front of as much as I want.

You know, because I could probably walk up to Nathan and say something completely random and lewd like "hey, Laurernt has a nice butt" and Nathan would just nod and smile and poke me on the nose and it would be completely unremarkable, but around anyone else that comment will raise eyebrows.

"Sorry." Noire mumbles. "I was trying to help you not be lonely."

"Lonely? I'm not lonely." I say. "I'm doing things all the time! I have no time to be lonely!"

Noire's silence says everything. She obviously doesn't believe me, but is too polite to say so. She's also right, and I know she's right, we both know the reason I'm always doing things is precisely to stave off loneliness, but I don't want to think about it.

Also, my loneliness is a bit petty. I'm lonely because I'm used to constant attention almost every waking moment of my life, and I mean that quite literally. It was rare that me and Nathan would be apart for more than an hour. Even those three months or so when I was out with the Shepherds and Nathan was back in Ylisstol were mostly spent thinking about what I would do when I was back in Ylisstol. I guess that's the problem with having only one close friend and nothing else that holds your attention aside from that friend.

Now that I think of it, the only reason I got into analyzing games was because it made my time with Nathan more fun. It's only recently I got a hobby (studying magic) that I actually did for myself and which he wasn't foundational to. So much of my life was- is- based around him. It's not that I suddenly don't want him, of course I want him, but just maybe I should have more than one pillar in my life.

I suppose I also have Father now, so not just one pillar.

"Morgan?"

Ah, I've been spacing out while thinking. "Thanks Noire."

"Oh, uh, you're welcome?"

"You're a good friend, you know that?" And I mean that. She's proven herself to be very observant. She noticed I was lonely despite the fact I was actively trying to hide it from even myself, and she was quick to offer comfort to Nathan after he learned he was stuck in this world.

"Thank you?" Noire says, looking very confused.

"I'm having too many deep thoughts." I decide. "What's something frivolous we can talk about?"

"I don't know." Noire says honestly. "I'm used to talking about inventory and camp tasks. It's been a long time since I had something unimportant to talk about."

Right. Ruined future. "Then what do girls usually talk about? I don't know girl things."

"I don't know either." Noire admits sheepishly. "S-Severa used to talk about fashion when we had just started running away, and she'd complain that other girls only wanted to talk about boys. I mostly spent time with Brady when I was growing up, so I wouldn't know from personal experience."

I suppose boys is a topic I could do, but I feel that would be a bit lopsided considering I'm in a relationship and Noire probably isn't even considering it at the moment. I know nothing about fashion, so that's also a no. "I don't think either of those are going to work, unless we want a one-sided ramble about Nathan from me."

"Yeah…"

"So how about this: have you picked up any new hobbies since you got back? I've started to learn magic. Practical magic I mean, not just combat magic. I'm studying what Miriel does, at least until we get back to Ylisstol and I can learn properly."

"I-I haven't been doing much." Noire says. "I've been helping Mother with her work, and also helping the Shepherds with repairing things, but not much else. I really don't know what to do even though I have so much freedom now."

"I feel the same in some sense." I say. "And how are things going with your mother? Also, what is it that she does exactly?"

"It's going… well enough." Noire says hesitantly, and there is clearly more to it than she's letting on. "Mother likes making new curses. It's not a job though, it's a hobby. So I shouldn't say anything more."

"Ah, yeah, don't reveal anything you shouldn't." I say.

"What about your father?"